


Master Mine: A Lesson in Submission

by LissaDream, Snowblind12



Series: Master Mine [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 3 plus, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bi, Bondage, Complete, Con/Non-Con, D/s, Dom - Freeform, Exhibitionism, Het, Humiliation, M/S, Multi, OC, Oral, Rim, Slash, Toys, dp, h/c, hj - Freeform, spank
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 04:14:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 282,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12004794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LissaDream/pseuds/LissaDream, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowblind12/pseuds/Snowblind12
Summary: Hermione accidently witnesses something and her life changes forever. Canon compliant to book 6 - then STRONG AU. Dominance/submission. SS-HG; LM-HG; DM-HG; some HG-CW; light HG-OC. Other OC's moderately involved as friends. COMPLETE. Book 1/3. Written by: LissaDream and Snowblind 12~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~In the almost nine years since the end of the second wizarding war, Hermione Granger has grown into a powerful and an amazing witch. She has it all: a great job, wonderful friends, one could even say the perfect life. But is it so perfect? Not really. She has struggled in her love life for many years and is tired of constantly failing. Like all her friends have done, she wants to settle down and raise a family. She's ready for "that next stage in life."A chance encounter introduces Hermione to something she never knew was missing. Following her gut, she does what she does best – researches. Finding a darker urge within, she realizes that chance encounter could be the key to the successful love life she's been dreaming of.Follow our heroine as she discovers the world of Dominance and submission and the men who help her find herself – and love – along the way.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Anything you recognize, we do not own and are not making any money off it. We are no way affiliate with the Harry Potter Franchise, J.K. Rowling, or Universal Studios. We write for fun. This disclaimer will not be repeated, it is a blanket for the entire story.  
> 

**About our AN's: We realize that this first chapter has lots of notes from us as authors - this is the ONLY chapter you will find with long notes until you reach the last few that have been posted. We delete old author notes and guest responses after every two chapters. (Example, when I posted chapter 22, chapter 20's notes were removed.) We left the notes on this chapter because they do a few things: gives you the story synopsis that is too long for the little description field, tells about us as co-writers, tells about us and our experiences with the BDSM community, gives you ways to interact with us outside of FFN, and also gives you warnings and tags for the story.**

* * *

**BETAS:** Any chapter that does not have a BETA's name at the top has not been Beta'd. We beg forgiveness on all errors. We are not professional editors. We do go over our work numerous times before posting and even do a final read through out loud as the very last thing before posting. We hate mistakes and LissaDream is good with punctuation, spelling, grammar, and structure. However - we are both human.

Thanks for reading despite any mistakes you may find!

* * *

 **INTERACT WITH US:** We both have tumblr accounts and we have a joint Facebook Account. We post pictures of what we imagine our characters to look like along with photos that inspire descriptions on these sites. Along with those, we interact with our fans and post when we update. Find us:

 **Facebook** :   
 **Joint** : <https://www.facebook.com/lissa.snow.77>   
**Lissa’s** : <https://www.facebook.com/lissadean.27>   
**Snow’s** : <https://www.facebook.com/anne.snow.92775>

**Tumblr** : LissaDream AND SnowBlind12

* * *

**Author Note:**

We are also co-authoring another story called A World Not Fit to Live In and another called Runaway. On AO3 and AFF both our accounts are linked to the stories. On WattPad and FFN we have a joint account entitled: SnowBlindLissaDream. We email the stories back and forth and use notes in Word and type in our own colors to add and change things. It's one hell of a process, and because of this...we have these amazing stories we're super proud of. Please address reviews to both of us!

 **Second**. I (Lissa) feel comfortable sharing that while my husband and I lead a very UN-vanilla life-style (we like to experiment) I am not a submissive, nor is my husband a Dominant. I have never participated in the D/s or M/s lifestyle. We're just not able to dedicate that kind of time to our sex life with four little kids. I am _fascinated_ with this lifestyle, and everything I know is through research and discussing it with someone I know who has experience in the life-style. **IF YOU ARE PART OF THIS LIFESTYLE** and you feel we portrayed something that is **_very wrong_ (not just something you don't like) PLEASE ** tell us. We will make changes to make it right or address it in future chapters if we feel it's warranted. We WILL do this lifestyle justice and do our best to portray it as it should be. Give the story a bit of time to evolve before making comments, because something you think is wrong may be addressed in a future chapter (example: use of alcohol). That being said, this is _a work of fiction_ and sometimes things may be embellished. ;o)

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**WARNINGS:**

**No need to leave a review OR read this story if you are going to complain about OR if the following things bother you:  
**  
**1\. Character Pairing:** If you don't like a Slytherin/Hermione pairing, move on. This story is not for you  
**2\. Age Difference** of Character Pairing: The age gap just ISN'T that big of a deal.  
**3\. BDSM lifestyle** and any of the following tags.

 **Adult Tags:** Threesomes, moresomes, anal sex, BDSM, Bi-sexual, Domination, Submission, Double Penetration, Dominant/submissive relationships, Exhibitionism, hurt/comfort, hand job, humiliation, Heterosexual relationship, homosexual relationships, Master/slave, Oral sex, Rimming, Masturbation, Spanking, use of a variety of sex toys and BDSM implements/tools, con-non-con, non-con implied, bondage, suspension, sensory deprivation, orgasm denial, edging, role playing, public nudity, public sex, outdoor sex, one night stand, breath control. More tags to be added as necessary.

Read at your own risk.

* * *

 **Reviews:** **We LOVE reviews and PMs.** We also like FAVORITES and FOLLOWS and KUDOS and DRAGON PRINTS and VOTES. But we LOVE reviews more! We welcome your thoughts, your speculations, your suggestions, your hopes, your dislikes, your passion, your emotions. We welcome your CONSTRUCTIVE feedback. What we _don't_ welcome are FLAMES - they are not necessary and WILL be deleted - just walk away if you don't like it. We don't need to hear from you.

We do OUR BEST to respond to every review. Sometimes it's just not possible, but we DO TRY. If you review as a guest or have your PMs disabled, we respond to you at the bottom of the next chapter. They will stay there for two postings and then will be deleted, so make sure to pop on quick to see your answer.

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NOW - welcome to the roller coaster ride that is:

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  **MASTER MINE: A Lesson in Submission  
  
****Chapter One**  
**Structural Beta: LadyKardasi & Theo121**

* * *

Hermione Granger sighed, closing and locking the door of her small law firm above Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley. Another late night, and if it weren’t for her plans this evening, it would be another pitch-black walk home to a dark, lonely flat. She was tired of always being either at work or alone, and wondered for perhaps the millionth time that year why she failed so epically at relationships.

It certainly wasn’t for lack of trying. At twenty-seven years old, she’d had a dozen relationships, spanning a few months to almost two years. With every single one, however, the spark fizzled and died like a wet Weasley’s Wildfire Whiz-bang. The most recent had been a four-month affair with Oliver Wood. She shook her head, somewhat exasperated with herself. When was she going to learn that as much as she was attracted to Quidditch players, they never had enough in common with her to make a go of it for long. And the sex…Merlin’s pants…the sex had been awful. Stale, boring, too fast, minimal foreplay. She had gotten some great acting practice in on her fake orgasms, though. Looking back at it, she was surprised it had taken her four months to end it. Instead of being hurt and confused, he had looked almost relieved when she broke it off. This had made her wish he had been the one to break it off, and much earlier. She had held on too long out of guilt.

Sex had never been good for Hermione and she just didn’t understand why. Reflecting on things, she could count on one hand how many times she had gotten off when she wasn’t the one doing the work, and still have fingers left over. Nothing excited her. She had read romance novels and instructive works, she knew the mechanics and biology behind sex, and she had been told by more than one man she was stellar at giving a good blow job (something she prided herself on in the bedroom department) – but none of that seemed to help. There was no fire, no passion, no one had ever ignited her the way she longed for.

She had some passionate relationships in the terms of intellectual stimulation and blatant attraction. She had also had some hot and heavy petting that had thrilled her enough she was optimistic it would lead to explosions in the bedroom…but no. Near the end of her and Ron’s relationship (the only relationship that had lasted almost two-years), he had finally fumbled around enough to get her off before satisfying himself. She had broken up with him a month later, after they had only slept together three times during that time. This (after two years of four to five times a week) led her to believe he wanted out but didn’t know how to go about it.

They’d remained the best of friends, even better now that the stress of trying to maintain a failing relationship was behind them. The only other man in her life who had been able to get her off without her help had been a Muggle one-night stand when she was twenty-three. She had pulled a Coyote-Ugly the next morning. He had been a truly unattractive man. She shuddered just thinking about it. She liked to believe she was above such things as looks, but you actually had to be able to look at a person without cringing, yeah? In order to get to know them and make conversation. It was just her luck that the alcohol-induced romp had been the most satisfying of her life.

Was it sad that she found cold, plastic toys bought at a Muggle sex shop better at intimacies than any lover she’d had in her young adult life? _You’re not bloody kidding yourself, it’s sad._ She sighed again, pocketing her keys and making her way to Knockturn Alley.

Knockturn Alley had changed quite a bit since the end of the second Wizarding War, although it was still a little sketchy. She enjoyed the makeover of Obscure Books, and a couple of young adult clubs had sprung up. She was meeting Ginny and Luna at their favorite – _Patronus_. The streets had been cleaned up of beggars and dark object peddlers, and ladies of the night. She was excited for their once-a-month girls’ night out. She missed the more frequent dates with her girlfriends, but Luna and Ron’s twins had just turned one and Ginny and Harry’s boys were two and a half and almost one. She pulled her cloak around her more tightly, stamping her feet to keep out the late November cold as she continued to plod out of Diagon Alley.

She had decided to work late tonight, calling it quits around eight-thirty so she could get herself ready for their night out. She knew the girls would probably call it a night by eleven-thirty at the latest. She had been told over and over again during the last year that she “would understand someday” that the fatigue of being a parent just got to you, and staying up late wasn’t as feasible as it once was.

To be honest, Hermione was already feeling it, and she didn’t have children yet. When she had challenged that it was just growing older as an adult and having more pressing responsibilities, she received titters and an exchange of knowing looks that infuriated her. It frustrated her greatly that her two closest girlfriends and her two best friends had a connection between them that she didn’t share. It made her feel extremely left out. A fifth wheel as it were. She paused outside the entrance to _Patronus_ , hoping to spot her friends in line. She was about ten minutes early, and it seemed as though they hadn’t arrived yet. She approached the club, watching with fascination as one couple towards the end of the line snogged passionately, their arms wrapped tightly around each other, hips grinding together. She couldn’t imagine wanting someone so much that she wouldn’t be able to keep her hands to herself in a public line. She rolled her eyes and made her way to the end of the queue. Ten minutes later, Luna and Ginny showed up with big smiles and hugs. Hermione, whose eyes had been riveted to the fierily embracing couple up the row, was startled by their arrival. _Damn, I need to get laid._

A little more than two hours later, she was decidedly tipsy and having a great time with her much more sober friends. They had discussed the upcoming holiday festivities planned; Hermione was to be at the Burrow as usual. Maybe this was the year Charlie Weasley would finally persuade her into to his bed. He’d been after her the previous two, and both times she had evaded him neatly. If she didn’t get laid soon, though (and laid well), she couldn’t be held responsible for her choices. This six-month dry spell was killing her, as evident by her raging, hormonal thoughts.

“I’m bushed,” Ginny said when Hermione shouted the next round was on her. “I think I have to get going.”

“Yeah…me too,” Luna said. “The boys have been getting up at 5:30 every morning. I’m going to be destroyed tomorrow if I don’t get to bed.”

Hermione’s face fell as she looked between her two friends. “It’s only 10:45!” she whinged. “Stay for a little bit longer…please?”

“I’m sorry, Hermione.” Ginny truly did look sorry at her friend’s crestfallen expression. “Al has an ear infection and I know I’m going to be up with him a few times tonight. He’s such a mama’s boy, doesn’t want anything to do with Harry if I’m to be had. I need to get to bed.”

“I’m sorry Al is sick.” Hermione tried to hide her dejection at their early departure. It’s not that she didn’t feel bad that Albus was ill, she was just annoyed to be losing her friends so early in the evening. “That sucks. It’s okay, you guys go ahead and take off. I’m going to stay a little bit longer.”

Luna looked uncertain. “Are you sure, Hermione? Why don’t you turn in, too?”

“Nah.” She shook her head. “I need a little bit more let loose time before I call it a night. It’s okay. You two get home to your babies.”

She was disappointed when they both listened. _Maybe this is part of the reason why my relationships always fail spectacularly_ , she thought to herself. She watched the girls get their cloaks from the coat check before they turned to give her one last wave before heading to the Disapparition room. _I always give in and never get what I need._

She sighed and turned her drink bottoms up to drain the glass. She needed to pee and wasn’t going to let good liquor go to waste. She had no one to watch it for her and leaving it unattended wasn’t an option.

Oddly, there was no line to the ladies, so she pushed into the room quickly, only to abruptly freeze in shock. The kissing couple from the line had the room occupied and Hermione wondered if she had unconsciously broken through a simple ward. (It wouldn’t have been the first time her wandless magic took over when something was urgent…like her very overfull bladder.) No sooner had that thought come and gone, when she wondered if she shouldn’t be taking off to get some help.

The wizard had the pretty brunette witch bent over a counter at the far end of the room. Her arms were twisted behind her, wrists held by one of his long-fingered hands, and he was…spanking her. Hard. From where Hermione was standing, she could see the left butt cheek of the witch was bright red with palm prints fanning out towards her hips and down her thighs. She also caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a very slick sex, literally glistening in the fluorescent light of the restroom. It was the noises she was making, though, that stopped Hermione from running for the nearest security wizard. The witch sounded like she was being fucked – and fucked well.

Hermione felt heat rise to her cheeks and a bit of dizziness engulfed her as the sights and sounds instantly caused her knickers to flood . It was arousing. More than arousing. It was hot. Then his words filled her ears and she was rooted to the spot, pussy dripping, breath starting to come more quickly as her heart ticked up a notch.

“Naughty little witches get their arses turned hot and red, don’t they, love?” Another blow landed, and another. The witch arched her back into the spanks and moaned. It sounded like Hermione’s rehearsed and well-practiced fake orgasms. Only this was definitely not fake.

“Yes…sir,” she hissed out on a low groan as the next four blows jiggled her backside. Hermione let out a soft moan.

The wizard’s head shot up and he made eye contact with her in the mirror. He was gorgeous. Tall, dark hair, striking blue eyes. His face was angular and his eyebrows arched in surprise at finding her there. He took in her flushed expression and wide eyes and smirked knowingly at her before resuming the punishment of his witch. “We have an audience, pet. I think she likes what we’re doing, should we let her watch?”

More blows fell, the witch gasped and arched again. “Yes, sir!” she panted, not looking up.

“Come closer, witch.” The man directed Hermione, eyes locking on her as he continued to methodically drop heavy slaps in a fast-paced rhythm. The dark-haired witch in front of him continued to moan wantonly, and Hermione watched in fascination as the girl widened her stance, exposing her dripping sex further.

Not knowing why, Hermione complied with the wizard’s request instantly, moving three steps closer to the couple and cocking her head to the side to glean a better view of the goings-on. She saw the man smirk in the mirror before he turned his attention back to the witch. “How many is that, Pet?” He gave her another hard slap, Hermione observed a white handprint quickly fading back to a deep pink. _The poor girl’s ass must be on fire,_ she thought. Why did that turn her on?

“Forty-two, sir!” the girl cried out. “Oh, Gods. It burns, sir. Please touch my pussy, sir, I’m so wet!”

“Oh!” Hermione’s hand came up to clutch her throat; her visceral reaction to the woman’s desperate plea was instantaneous. She thought she had been turned on before, now her need was raging. The man’s eyes snapped up to hers again and he leered at her.

“Unbutton your blouse,” he told her in a demanding tone.

Hermione’s lips parted in surprise as thoughts tumbled through her head, completely out of control. She made an impulsive and split-second decision. Pulling her wand out, she sent a new, stronger warding at the door before sliding it back into her skirt. Then her fingers, almost with a mind of their own, flew to the row of tiny buttons of her cranberry colored blouse, popping them open quickly to expose a black balconette bra. She watched in excitement as the stranger’s eyes darkened, his already dilated pupils blowing wide. She started to tremble.

“Fifty, sir!” The witch underneath him ground out with a strangled yelp. Hermione’s gaze couldn’t be torn away as she watched the man slowly trace the line of the witch’s slit, she could see her juices coating her thighs and pubic hair.

The woman gasped and thrust her hips back, seeking more stimulation. She jumped when the wizard glanced another stinging blow across her cheeks, making her cry out.

“Stay still, Pet. This is your only warning, or there will be fifty more spankings to take.”

The girl whimpered, but did not move as he sunk two fingers into her channel. “Gaaaah!” She sounded like she had never felt so good in her entire life and Hermione continued to stare, open-mouthed and panting, at the couple. Reflexively, she rubbed her thighs together, desperate for friction.

He quickly and methodically brought the witch to a screaming climax that made Hermione tremble with a desperate need and a longing that was as confusing as it was frantic.

“Stand up, Pet,” he growled, grasping her by her hair. He pulled her to stand, cranking her chin up forcefully.

Hermione got to see her face for the first time. She was very pretty. Dark, coffee brown tresses fell around her face and her eyes were a pale blue, almost grey. Her face was flushed and blank with a mixed look of desire and satiation. A lust like Hermione had never experience leaked out of her pores . Hermione took an involuntary step back from them, her heart rate increasing. What was she doing, barging in on an intimate experience like this? She had no idea who these people were.

“She’s lovely, sir.” The girl whispered. “I see why you didn’t turn her away.”

“Powerful, too, Pet. Do you feel it?”

“Yes, sir. Are you going to ask her to join us, sir?”

The man sneered at his _pet_. “Would you like that, sweetheart?”

“Oh, yes, sir,” the girl breathed.

“Would you like to join us, kitten?” the man asked, his sneer turning to a devilish grin at Hermione with his invitation.

Suddenly, Hermione panicked. “What…? Oh, no. No. I’m terribly sorry,” she stammered, taking another step back. Her fingers flew to button up the blouse she had undone. What in the world had possessed her to unbutton her blouse?! Just because some freak in the ladies’ room asked her to? What the hell was the matter with her?

She blanched as tears sprung to her eyes. Why was she so turned on? She had never felt like this before in her life. Nothing and no one had ever made her so wet and desperate for release.

Both sets of eyes watching her suddenly seemed to soften. It was like they understood exactly what she was feeling in that very moment.

“I should go!” Hermione spun and was almost to the door when a hand grabbed her elbow. It was the woman.

“Hey,” she said softly. “It’s okay. Are you okay?” Hermione glanced up over her shoulder to see piercing grey-blue eyes watching her appraisingly.

“I am fine. I’m so embarrassed,” she replied ashamedly. “I’ll leave you two. I’ll ward the door again. I’m not even sure why I stayed. I’m so sorry I interrupted you.”

“Stop.” The grey-eyed girl insisted. “Don’t apologize. Listen – have you ever done something like this before?”

“No.” She didn’t know so much hysteria could be put into one word. Why was she talking to this woman? She was mortified; she had to get out of here.

“Calm down, I’m sure you have a lot of questions. I know I did with my first encounter.” The girl held out a card and Hermione met her eyes questioningly before taking it cautiously. “My name is Rose, this is my Master, Etan. If you want to know more, you can find us here most weekends.” She tapped the card and Hermione’s eyes dropped to it.

 ** _THE DUNGEON_**  
**Can be found at 84 Knockturn Alley**  
All welcome

“We’d be happy to answer any you come up with.”

Hermione looked to Master Etan with wide eyes before turning back to Rose, who smiled warmly at her before reaching out and grabbing her wrist. “There’s _nothing_ wrong with you.”

Hermione’s opposite hand flew up to cover her mouth, and she stifled a sob of horrified confusion mixed with relief. “I need to go.” Rose let her go quickly and she bolted, slamming the door behind her as she fled.


	2. Chapter Two

* * *

   **Chapter Two**

* * *

 

She couldn’t believe she was contemplating doing this. She stared at the front of the secret-kept building for the last hour. It was not the first time she had arrived here over the past two weeks only to stand outside the place shaking like a leaf. The building was industrial, dark grey stone with a darker metal roof. The windows had prison bars over them and the front door was heavy and metallic with large riveted bolts framing the edge and the window. She had watched a few people enter this evening, and knew the window slid open. There appeared to be a password. She hoped that the business card she held plus the names she had were enough to get her in.

Because she _was_ going in tonight. She had to. She had so many questions. So many desires. She had researched to her fullest extent since her chance encounter and discovered the not-so-hidden world of Domination and submission. Not to mention bondage, role play, punishment, electric stimulation, toys she could have never imagined, public humiliation, exhibitionism, and the list went on.

The one she was most intrigued with was the act of being a submissive. Of getting to let go. Of not having to be in control. She replayed the spanking she watched Rose receive from Master Etan in her minds-eye over and over again. Each time it made her more wet than the last.

She sucked in a deep breath and started for the door.

* * *

The wizard watched her warily through his magical security cameras. This was not the first time the Granger girl had shown up here, standing outside like a mouse caught in wandlight. He was curious at what a chit like that would be doing at a place like this. Part of him watched her in hopes she would come in to his establishment, the other part watched her in hopes she would Disapparate and not ever return.  The little know-it-all had been a right thorn in his side for seven years of his miserable existence – he’d had enough.

However…the thoughts of her being interested in this world – a world in which he controlled with an iron fist – was extremely intriguing. Especially if she could be talked into a go with him. Wouldn’t it be nice to have the bragging rights of giving it to the Golden Girl? The Princess of Gryffindor Tower? To be the first to welcome her to the darker side of sexual pleasures? To sate her know-it-all tendencies and actually…teach her it all? He’d had his share of primary introductions to this world, all of them memorable in their own right. Nothing and no one would compare to taming this little lioness – that was, if she was of a submissive nature. Anything else would not fulfill his Dominant tendencies. Ah, who was he kidding. Tendencies. He was Dominant through and through.

His stomach leapt and he felt his face twist into a lopsided smirk as he watched her approach the door for the first time since he had seen her loitering almost two weeks ago. It appeared she had finally gotten that Gryffindor courage screwed to the sticking point.

He clicked the magical walkie-talkie at his hip and his silky voice could be heard over the bouncer feed. “Curly haired witch in her late twenties is about to enter. If she doesn’t have the password or names to drop, let her in anyway. If she does have either of those things, I want to know.”

He heard an affirmative to his directive and quickly made his way out to the bar. “Johnathan.” He motioned for the bartender to come chat with him for a moment. “There’s a curly haired brunette in her late twenties is coming in. I’m assuming she’ll be stopping here. Talk her up, I want to know her story. When you get it, come find me.”

“Yes, sir,” Jonathan answered with a smirk. It was an odd request, but every once in a while, the Master would take a fancy to a new witch and demand he be the first to bring her further into this delicious world of debauchery.

“If our illustrious benefactor shows tonight, don’t say a word,” the wizard called over his shoulder. He didn’t need an affirmation. His staff knew who was really in charge around here, even if the money came from elsewhere.

* * *

Hermione raised her hand and tapped timidly on the door. Her heart was pounding in her throat, she could barely breath – she felt like she was going to pass out.

“Welcome to The Dungeon. Password, please.” The tone of the man was gruff, but polite. Hermione bit her lip and didn’t miss the way the man’s eyes darkened and dropped to her mouth. Her throat went dry and she swallowed hard, trying to get her voice to work.

“Miss?” The wizard questioned.

“I don’t have a password,” she finally managed to whisper, her voice trembled violently. “Rose and Master Etan gave me this card…” She trailed off, flipping the card into his line of sight. She noted his eyes widen slightly and he looked down, seemingly studying something.

A moment later the door creaked open and she was gestured inside. The lights were dim and the music soft and welcoming. She glanced around the space and realized she was in a cloak room. A witch in a stunning Slytherin green Basque was standing at a counter. She beckoned Hermione forward and she took a cautious step, taking in the woman’s figure. She was the epitome of perfection. Her skin was a deep, golden caramel and her hair and eyes such a dark brown they were almost black. She had a full, pouty bottom lip and thick curly lashes that only accentuated her high cheek bones and almond shaped eyes.

The Basque was embroidered with a black lace design, black piping followed the edges and from her cleavage to her pubic bone were black laces. Around her middle was a silk black ribbon, tied in a bow to one side. She was wearing plain, silk black knickers and thigh high fishnet stockings which were clipped to the bodice. There were small silk bows, also in ebony, on each stocking on the outer thigh. She took Hermione’s cloak with a smile, her eyes trailing down the curly haired brunette’s slender, form fitting gown, before raising an eyebrow in apparent appreciation. This made Hermione blush, which only deepened when the witch smirked and turned to hang her cloak with a wave of her wand, revealing two perfectly round buttocks separated by a thin string of black. She swallowed again and tried to stop her trembling by clasping her hands in front of her.

Hermione had chosen her dress carefully tonight. It was a very form fitting silk in deep crimson, off the shoulder with long sleeves that fell to mid-thigh. She’d left her hair loose, but tamed. Large, thick ringlets fell down her back and over her shoulders. Quite different from the tight chignon she usually wore at the nape of her neck. She had used a lengthening charm, making her hair cascade all the way to her waist, tickling the top of her bum. She felt sexy, but comfortable. It was a dress that brought her great confidence. She had chosen silk pantyhose in nude with a pair of black kitten heels with a pointed toe and a bow. Her makeup was natural except for a Smokey eye and dark red lipstick. She wore no jewelry…and no undergarments. She was being carefully optimistic.  

“I-I’ve never been here before,” she said softly to the dark-haired witch. She realized now she was wearing a name badge that simply said “Lola” on it.

“I can tell,” Lola smirked. “Watch yourself, the wizards here will eat you alive if you can’t hold your own. Some of the witches, too.”

“Let’s not scare her off, Lola.” Came a deep, resonate voice. Hermione whirled and came face to face with … a mask. There was a man behind it, however. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss…?”

“Um,” Hermione bit her lip again and had to stifle a choke of laughter as both Lola and the masked wizard dropped their gaze to the provocative gesture. “I would rather not divulge my name just yet.” The confession was soft, but she could sense a raised eyebrow behind the mask.

“You’re joking, right?” Lola snickered. “We should find her a mask, then, Master. Otherwise everyone will know the female third of the Golden Trio has arrived. They’ll all want a piece of her.”

Hermione took a step back in surprise. How could she have been so stupid?

“I should go,” she whispered, quickly turning back to Lola. “My cloak, please?”

“No, no.” The deep baritone of the man behind her literally sent shockwaves of heat down her spine. She glanced up to her right to find the man towering over her. Her mouth went dry. “This will do, Miss Granger.”

There was a delicate flip of a wrist and then the silky-voiced man was holding a Zoro mask. “Simply say _sigillum_ and the mask will seal itself to your face. When you are through with it, only your voice will be able to release it by saying _reseranda_.”

Hermione stared at the mask unblinkingly for a breath of time before slowly reaching out to take it from the wizard. Instead, he stepped closer to her, effectively invading her personal space. He used his fingers to push her hair off her shoulders gently, teasingly, allowing the tresses fall down her back before sliding the mask into place. She didn’t breathe and his thumbs smoothed the mask to her face and his fingers cupped her cheeks, leaving a trail blazoned with fire. She shivered with pleasure.

“Say the magic word, Miss Granger.” His voice rumbled and her tongue came out to dart over dry lips.

“ _Sigillum_ ,” she whispered and felt the mask seal itself around her eyes and over her nose like a vacuum.

“Lovely,” he murmured, pulling a curl back over her shoulder and letting it go to watch it bounce and curve around her breast. She felt her breath hitch and forced herself to push it out and pull another slowly back in. This man was utterly captivating.

“Thank you, Lola.” The man said dismissively as he dropped a flat palm to Hermione’s lower back to guide her in to what looked like a bar.

“You’re welcome, Master,” Lola replied, a smile in her voice.

* * *

“I’ll leave you to acquaint yourself with your surroundings, Miss,” he said cordially as he pulled a stool out for her. “Johnathan.” He signaled the bar tender with a lift of a strong jaw. “Will get you whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” Hermione whispered. She watched as he turned to leave and, unable to stop herself, reached out and grasped his wrist. Dark eyes flashed as they met hers and she quickly let go. Apparently being grabbed was not something he was comfortable with. “I’m sorry, sir,” she said quickly. Immediately taking on a demure tone. “I did not mean to be rude.”

“You’ll have to watch yourself around here, Miss.” Gods his voice was sexy as hell…and oddly familiar. “Such gestures will get you put over a knee faster than you can blink.”

Hermione felt her heart skip a beat before dancing into double time. The words escaping his mouth instantly caused her libido to raise its sleepy head. He took in her dazed expression as her lips parted. She seemed to have lost her voice. _Hmm…somebody_ wants _a spanking._ He attempted to hold back his smirk, but failed miserably.

“I am sorry, sir,” she finally managed, unable to meet his eyes. “I was just wondering if Rose or Master Etan were here?”

“I’m sorry to say they are not. You’ll have to try and catch them another night.” His answer was crisp. He didn’t know if Etan had brought Granger into his and Rose’s circle already or if they had just offered to introduce her around. He wanted to know her story before moving forward. “Enjoy your evening.” He gave her calm nod and spun on his heel. Leaving without a backward glance.

Hermione watched the tall figure retreat with a slight sense of disappointment. Her attraction to him had been almost instantaneous – and she thought it had been mutual. What did she know, though? A dozen failed relationships probably meant she was terrible at reading men. She turned to the bartender and asked for a butterbeer. The average height, sandy-blond haired man obliged happily and then proceeded to talk her ear off as she people watched.

The bar was not very busy, only about a half dozen people, and there were two wizards staffing it. Both wore Slytherin green dress shirts with black trousers. There were a few waitresses milling around – all in the same Basque as the one Lola had been waring at the cloak check. She watched as they disappeared and reappeared through doors at opposite ends of the room. Leaving with full trays and coming back with empty ones.

After some polite pleasantries with Jonathan, she started asking questions.

“I thought this was a BDMS club,” she said softly. The bartender quirked an eyebrow at her as he pointedly watched a man in leather pants lead a witch in nothing but a garter belt, stockings, and heels past them through one of the doors the waitresses had gone through by a tether that was connected to a collar at her neck.

“It is.” Is said dryly. Hermione flushed.

“How come there’s no one…well. You know.”

“Ah.” He smirked. “Most of that happens in the Dungeon.” A wink when she looked confused. “In the basement, sweetheart,” he clarified for her with a small smile. “All the public forum and private rooms are downstairs. There are suites upstairs geared towards specific fetishes. Something you’re into particularly?”

This was it. Hermione took a deep breath and let it out on a whoosh. “I don’t know.” She answered honestly, knowing her eyes were wide and her lips were trembling. “I’ve never done anything like this.”

Jonathan froze in apparent surprise in the act of wiping a glass. “Tell me you’re not a virgin. How old are you? Twenty-five?”

Hermione couldn’t help herself, she giggled. This man was very easy to talk to. “Twenty-seven,” she answered, still chortling. “And no, I’m not a virgin. I’ve just never done anything that wasn’t…well. Vanilla is the appropriate term, yes?”

“Christ. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into with this place, do you?” He said it with a grin as he plopped an elbow down on the counter and dropped his chin into it. He frowned as his name was called from the opposite side of the bar and held up a finger to her, indicating he needed a minute. She nodded, distracted as a very tall, well-built man seemed to be approaching her. He looked to be about her age, maybe a little older, blonde, with a goatee. He was wearing a royal blue button-down dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and a pair of black slacks. The shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a smattering of chest hair and a glimpse of hard muscle. 

She froze in the act of bringing her butterbeer to her lips when she realized he was actually coming to speak with her.

“Fresh meat,” he said slyly, sniffing the air around her like some absurd predator.

“Excuse me?” Hermione didn’t even attempt to hide her offense.

He gave her a devilish grin, a dimple appearing in one cheek. His teeth were gorgeous, and as the daughter of not one – but two – dentists, she approved whole-heartedly, even if his approach left something to be desired.

“You’re new here,” he stated the obvious. It took every ounce of control not to roll her eyes at him. “Can I interest you in some play time, tonight?”

Hermione felt herself blanch, her mouth popping open in surprise. Apparently, he wasn’t going to beat around the bush. Luckily, Jonathan came to her rescue.

“Back off, Deco,” the bartender said with an indulgent smile. “The new girl is just here to ask questions tonight. She has no idea what she’s in for. She’s definitely not ready for the likes of you!”

This made Hermione a smidge defensive. She’d never gone into any situation completely unprepared. “Well, I’m not entirely ignorant. I’ve done some research -”

Jonathan couldn’t help it, he started guffawing. Only laughing harder when Hermione gave him a completely affronted look. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry. I promise I’m not laughing at you. I’m just surprised. Research!”  
  
Deco, at hearing she was just here for a question and answer night, immediately lost interest and ambled away to a couple of young woman who were sitting at a booth behind the bar. Hermione let him go without another thought.  
  
“We don’t get many people come in here off the street without knowing exactly what they’re walking into. Tell me how you heard about this place.” Jonathan continued, still grinning like the Cheshire cat.

Hermione let his words sink in for a few moments before answering. “I walked in on Master Etan spanking Rose in the lady’s at _Patronus_ two weeks ago. Something just sort of…clicked in me. I lost myself for a moment, responding to his directives without a second thought. When they invited me to join them, though – I panicked. Rose was able to calm me down enough to give me a card and tell me to seek her – them – out if I wanted to ask questions.”

Jonathan’s face to on an increasingly surprised expression the more she talked. “I kinda just dove into research. I like researching things. I came tonight hoping their offer still stood. I’m ready to experience.”

That made him straighten up with a smirk. “And what did your research lead you to believe?”

“That…well. I think I’d could be…that is.” She broke herself off, pulling in her courage before spitting out in a rush. “I think I might be sexually submissive.”

Johnathan contemplated her quietly for a moment, a distant look coming to his eyes. “It’s a hell of a thing to find out, yeah?” He finally said. “Has your love life ever been good?”

Hermione felt herself blush fiercely and avoided making eye contact. “It’s not…it’s not that it hasn’t been good…it just hasn’t been…” She couldn’t seem to continue.

“Explosive? Earth shattering? Moving?”

“Yes…” she breathed. “None of those things. It’s almost…a chore.” She cringed as she saw his eyes widen. “I’m just hoping to find someone safe to talk to and maybe have an experience or two with. To help me figure this out.”

She was distracted for a moment when Deco and the two girls he had been propositioning sprung to their feet and headed to the doors she had seen lead up, to the fetish rooms, apparently. The girls were giggling in each other’s ears, their arms entwined. She watched, wide-eyed as one lunged suddenly, pulling the other into a heated snog before pulling away again and laughing some more as the trio disappeared through the door.

“Well, Poppet, I know just the man. You want me to get him?”

Hermione’s mouth popped open in surprise. Did she want him to get a Dominant who would be willing to talk to and teach a complete stranger? She took a moment to chew that over before answering him.

She had come here tonight because her sex life had left her quite literally dry over the last eight years. She could get herself off with little trouble, but nothing about sex with other people even remotely excited her. She felt like it should have gotten better by now, but it hadn’t. The fifteen minutes of her existence that had been spent in the presence of a Dominant with his submissive was the most intoxicating of her life. She knew she wanted to be taught, that she wanted to experiment. She knew that there were formal trainings and presentations for submissives – if she was indeed sexually submissive. If she could find a good Dominant that she clicked with and would be willing to train her, she might be able to find what she needed if she were then presented to the D/s community.

And what was it she wanted? An amazing sex life, a real relationship, perhaps a marriage…children. The last word was a longing. She wanted a family. She knew she could never tie herself to a man she wasn’t sexually compatible with, though. In her experience, having a poor sex life meant the relationship would not solidify. Just look at her and Ron. They loved each other deeply – he was her best friend. They got on well enough. They were both passionate people. They respected each other. The only thing that had ever been wrong with their relationship was the abysmal sex life they shared. There had been no spark, no satisfaction. Well…maybe there had been for him, especially at the beginning. For her, it had really never been all that exciting…or satisfying.

“Yes, Jonathan,” she answered after her long pause. “I would like you to get him.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To see photos that inspired the Basque in this chapter, find us on FB or Tumblr:
> 
> Facebook: www.facebook.com/snowand.lissa.7
> 
> Tumblr: LissaDream AND SnowBlind12


	3. Chapter Three

* * *

**Chapter Three**

* * *

The Master listened to Jonathan’s reiteration of Granger’s story with lit eyes and a thumb and forefinger covering his smirk. So, Granger thought she was a sexual submissive. Christmas had apparently come early for him this year. Now, how to go about presenting himself to her? Starting with the mask and a chat and then moving forward was probably his best bet. He would do nothing with her until he revealed his identity.

“Take her to my private quarters.” The brooding wizard instructed his employee with no trace of emotion. He watched as Jonathan hid a grin. “Explain to her the submissive pose and help her get into it. Tell her she must remain there. I will leave before I speak to her if she’s in any other position when I arrive. She may stay clothed if she prefers.”

“I like this one, sir,” he said over his shoulder as he quickly left to comply with his boss’ wishes. “She seems bright. Maybe even bright enough for you to not leave your first session calling her a dunderhead, yeah?”

The Master didn’t deign this worthy of a response. He highly doubted Granger had the personality or mindset to let go of her need to be in control long enough to become a submissive. Then he was assaulted with the remembered look of her eyes dropping to the floor, her voiced laced with apology after she had grabbed his wrist. She obviously knew _something_ of submissive behavior.

Thirty minutes later, he left the security portal for his rooms. She’d had plenty of time to really work herself up into a tizzy. He fully expected her to be seated on a couch with her arms and legs crossed tightly over her body, furious with him for making her wait so long.

He had never been so delighted to be wrong. He opened the door to his rooms to find Hermione Granger’s slender back and tumbles of frizzy chestnut curls greeting him. She was at the end of the entry way in a seated kneel, both palms behind her head, elbows out to the side. Her back was ramrod straight, thrusting her breasts out in front of her. He rounded her slowly, and her eyes never lifted from the floor. He raised an eyebrow in surprise, taking in her lewdly parted knees, the skirt of her sinful dress riding high on her thighs.

She was trembling with her efforts. Holding this position could be difficult, especially for a new sub that hadn’t experience the pleasures and detachment of subspace. He stepped in front of her and held out a hand, palm up. “You may stand, Miss Granger.” He said softly. He waited patiently as she took a deep breath before allowing her arms to fall. She planted both palms on the floor and adjusted herself into a tall kneel. Her muscles were shaking with their fatigue.

“I’m sorry, sir. I need a moment, please.”

The wizard’s eyebrows rose even as his cock twitched its approval of her polite request with the tacked-on _sir_. It was not the first time tonight she had called him such, and he _liked_ it. Liked that he didn’t have to demand it of her as he thought he would have to. Liked that there was something different about a woman of Miss Granger’s caliber treating him with such respect and reverence. A moment later, her hand shot out to catch his palm and he helped pull her to her feet, one arm instinctively encircling her waist as her knees buckled. There was a crackle of electricity that startled him. Gods, but she was tiny. That in and of itself was a massive turn on for him. He’d be able to throw her around a bed or a room with minimal effort, to manipulate her any way he desired without her size being a hindrance, whether fucking her up against a wall or hoisting her onto a St. Andrew’s Cross – she would be like lifting a child. She was maybe five-feet, two-inches tall. If she weighed over 110 pounds, he’d eat his own dragon hide boots. How such a formidable personality could reside in such a tiny body was beyond him. It made her all the more captivating.

He helped her to the davenport and she sat gratefully, searching his masked face for a moment. “I wish to give you permission to talk freely, Miss Granger.” He said once she was comfortable. He handed her a glass of red wine and she took it warily.

“I thank you, sir,” she said demurely, still not meeting his eyes.

“I expect your tone to maintain politeness and respect at all time. One wrong move from you and this session ends. Tell me you understand.” He watched her take a sip of her drink.  
  
“I understand, sir.” To say he was blown out of the water would be an understatement. He’d followed her career – to be honest, it was hard not to. Hot shot lawyer in the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. Tons of pro bono work for magical creatures and battered women. She was in the papers at least every other week. To think that she could hold a respectful conversation with a Dominant was almost laughable, but here she was. Doing it.

He waited.

“You’re the same man who greeted me.”

“I am.”

She nodded slowly and raised her eyes to his face. “May I assume Jonathan filled you in on my history? Or lack thereof?”

“He did, Miss Granger.” He felt himself warm to her a bit, she was obviously nervous. She was brand new to this world and taking an extraordinary leap of faith entrusting herself to someone she thought was a complete stranger. She definitely had courage.

“Are you a trained Dominant?”

“I am.”

“Your experience?”

He paused. He was going to age himself greatly in her young eyes. “Just shy of thirty years, all thought I participated very little in the lifestyle during the war.”

This seemed to startle her, but then she brushed it aside. “Not that it really matters, but your age?”

“I will be forty-six after Christmas.”

“You’ve been a Dominant since your late teens?” She sounded surprised, but there was a tinge of something else. Jealousy? That seemed odd.

He answered in the affirmative.

“It must have been nice to be so sure of yourself at such a young age. I would have absolutely recoiled if anyone had suggested this to me even a few months ago.”

“It often takes a surprise encounter or unexpected exposure for people to become interested in this lifestyle, Miss Granger.” He reached up with a hand to brush his fingers across his jaw. His stubble was starting to itch. He’d have to shave before bed.

“I’m interested.” She set her wine down on the side table before crossing her legs and lacing her fingers around her knee.

“I surmised as much,” he said softly. “I am willing to give you an introductory session. If you find yourself further intrigued, I will help you find a Dominant willing to train you. Depending upon how you … perform … that is. I won’t risk my reputation with a potential submissive who can’t hold her tongue or follow instructions.”

She was quiet for a moment, contemplating this information. When she finally spoke, he was astonished with the direction of her thoughts.

“You would not take me as a trainee?” She felt that last word was out of place, but didn’t know exactly how else to phrase it.

“It would be exceedingly … rare … for me to train a submissive. I never have before.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t help but think of the way his touch had left a trail of fire across her skin. His assistance getting her off the floor would have flooded her knickers…if she had been wearing any. “If I were to perform to your liking tonight, would you _consider_ training me?”

His eyebrows shot above his mask and she felt a thrill of excitement zing through her. She had surprised him.

“Miss Granger, I think you know not what you’re asking.”

“You say my name as if you know me.”

Here it was. Time to reveal himself. “That’s because I do know you, Miss Granger. And you know me.”

This made the girl freeze, her lovely caramel eyes widening behind her mask. “I-I do?”

“You do.”

“Are you going to…?”

“First, I want you to know that I am the owner of this establishment. I wish to assure you that your appearance here will not be spoken of. If anyone were to ever breathe a word of the goings on in this club, they would be severely punished to the full extent of the law. Being you are a very well-known lawyer, I believe you know what that entails.”

“Yes, sir.” Her voice was very small. She was trembling again. He didn’t blame her, he could only imagine what was flying through her mind.

“I would like for you to remove your mask,” he said quietly. She gave a jerky nod before lifting trembling fingers to her mask and muttering the releasing spell. She set it aside and returned her eyes to him.

“You are under no obligation to remain in this room or in this establishment. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“Yes, sir.” She gave another curt nod and he had to bite his cheek to not grin at her. The poor girl’s expression was translucent in her nervousness, the lovely smattering of freckles over her nose even more prominent with the pallor of her face.

“If, after I remove my mask, you find yourself wishing to leave, you may do so with no questions asked. You may even return next weekend to seek out Master Etan and Rose, if you’d like. They should be back by then. You will not be subjected to my presence again. I cannot promise you we would not see each other from time to time, but I would not seek you out. However, if you wish to stay, to have a lesson this evening, you will remove your dress and come kneel in front of me in the submissive position you were taught so I may inspect you. I wish to hear you say, ‘I accept your terms’ before we begin. When you answer my questions, you will call me sir at the end of every sentence. For every time you do not call me sir, you will receive five spankings. Tell me now that you understand what I am saying.”

“I understand, sir.” Hermione answered. Bloody hell, just listening to him talk like that was doing amazing things to her body. She almost didn’t even care who he was.

Slowly he reached to his mask, his fingers locking on the edges. He fully expected her to bolt the moment she realized who he was. He muttered the releasing spell and pulled the mask away, watching her carefully.

Her eyes widened almost comically, a hand fluttering up to cover her mouth which had popped open in surprise. “P-professor?”

He didn’t respond, feeling her exclamation did not warrant it. As much as he was prepared for her to leap to her feet and flee, he was stealing himself against the disappointment that would cause. He knew he was not a very attractive man, or a kind man for that matter. This fit his Dominant persona extremely well. That did not mean, however, that he didn’t have feelings that could be hurt or an ego that could be bruised.

He watched in fascination as her face morphed from honest to goodness disbelief into a smooth mask. A mask he recognized as Occlumency shields sliding into place.

Hermione stared at her ex-professor in cool appraisal. She knew her Occlumency shields had removed any emotion from her face. Her body, however, was wracked with tremors fiercer then she had ever experienced before. She was attempting to objectively analyze her predicament.

Professor Severus Snape was an enigma. A force to be reckoned with – he always had been. Sitting here with him, knowing now that he had been a sexual Dominant almost two thirds of his life explained many things in her mind.

He was relatively unchanged. The intervening years hadn’t done much in the way of aging him, but he was at the point in his adult life where the aging process slowed tremendously. Most magical humans remained unchanged from their early forties to their early eighties. The changes that had occurred were for the better. His hair was cropped short. She could have never imagined him with such short hair, so it was a shock. No wonder why she’d had zero clue who he was. She wondered if he always wore it this way now, or if it were something new he was trying. It was a bit…wrong on him…but didn’t look bad. Without the length, it was definitely less greasy.

His complexion was no longer sallow, but he was still as pale as death. His skin practically glowed with its whiteness. It was healthy, though. He had some color in his cheeks and he had filled out. No longer the too skinny man of her past. Oh, he was still slender, but a fit slender. She wondered if he was as strong as he appeared to be. His chest and shoulders seemed broader then she remembered.  
  
It looked as though he’d had some dental work done, not that they had been awful when she knew him in her youth, just a bit crooked, a little yellowed. However, with magical fixes, there was really no reason not to have proper dental work done. It only prolonged your overall health. They were now straight and even and white.

Nothing could really change the fact he was an unattractive man, but he wasn’t ugly. Unique looking, really. Old English royalty. Regal nose, severe brow - not a beautiful man, but a man whose looks she could grow to find attractive. Nothing like her coyote-ugly one-night-stand.

She really was quite ready to test the waters of this new sexual fantasy of hers. With his mask on, he had been dark and mysterious. He presented a striking form – tall, lean, strong. The reveal of his face didn’t change any of that. If she was honest with herself, the fact that she knew this man who had set her skin on fire was comforting.

Did she know Severus Snape on a deep level? Not in the least. However, she knew him to be brave and noble. Intelligent – very intelligent – intuitive, honorable, protective. These were all adjectives which described this wizard – and they were attractive features in and of themselves. Everything he had done for the side of the Light during the second Wizarding War made that an undeniable fact. Even if he was a cantankerous, surly git.

She almost felt…lucky. She was entering what could be a dangerous world. If she wasn’t careful, she could get mixed up with the wrong people. Right here, right now, this turn of events seemed like a sign that she was moving in the right direction. She made her decision.

She let her Occlumency shields slip and dropped her eyes to the floor. Very slowly she stood, reaching behind herself to undo the charm that held up the self-zipping zipper. She felt it part along her back. Not rushing, she moved her right hand to her left wrist and pulled the sleeve off her arm before switching and doing the same to her right. She held the dress to her chest for a breath, trying to steady herself before letting it drop, revealing her nude, thigh high stockings and her naked form. She knew what she looked like, and wasn’t embarrassed to be naked. She was tiny, and had a slender hour glass form. Perky B cup breasts (that were closer to being a C, but a B bra did wonderful things to her cleavage) with dark pink nipples, a shadow of a four-pack, her hips flared nicely. She had long legs, even with how short she was. Her face may be plain, but she made up for her lack of traditional beauty with a well-shaped body that she took meticulous care of.

She had painstakingly shaved everything this evening. Leaving her bare except for a strip of neatly trimmed pubic hair. Every other surface of her body was silky smooth and glowing with a bronzer lotion she favored.

She heard a sharp intake of breath and had to pull in another stabilizing lungful of air. He had said nothing about her stockings or heels, so she carefully stepped out of the pool of crimson fabric. She took two steps towards him and sank gracefully to her knees, sitting her bum on her ankles, spreading her knees and raising her hands behind her head, elbows pointing out. “I accept your terms, sir.” She whispered in a wavering voice. She did not make eye contact, keeping them directed at his feet. She was utterly exposed to him. Her breasts thrust out, her pussy wide open. She knew he had probably been expecting her to have knickers on at least, even if she hadn’t been wearing a bra.

“Release the lifting charm on your breasts.” The command was said through gritted teeth and Hermione had to stifle a smirk. She had caught him off guard. She loved that she could make his voice sound like that.

“There is no lifting charm on my breasts, sir,” she stated quietly. She heard him swear softly before watching as he rose to his feet and started to circle her. Her heart was thrumming like a hummingbird’s and her respirations were picking up painfully. She concentrated on filling her lungs with every breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She felt a flush creeping up chest and neck to spread over her face and cheeks. No one had looked at her naked form this close (outside from herself) since she was maybe four years old. She started to tremble again as her fatigued muscles protested the position she had been forced into too long less than fifteen minutes ago.

“You have a very delectable body, Miss Granger.” Snape’s voice was gravely and did things to her that she would have never expected. “I am sure you have been told that before.”

“No, sir.”

“No?” Snape sounded incredulous for a moment. “Then you have been with a bunch of dunderheads, Miss Granger.”

She felt her blush deepen with pleasure.

“I am going to ask you some personal questions. I expect you to answer them honestly and quickly. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How many sexual partners have you had?”

“Eight, sir.”

“Do you have any sexually transmitted diseases or could you be pregnant?”

“No, sir.” Then after a beat, she added. “To both questions, sir.”

“When is the last time you were intimate?”

“Six-and-a-half-months ago, sir.”

There was a long pause after this one.

“Do you know what a safeword is, Miss Granger?”

She didn’t hesitate, just started reciting. “A safeword is a code word used by a submissive to unambiguously communicate their physical or emotional state to a Dominant, typically when approaching or crossing a physical, emotional, or moral boundary, sir. They can be used to stop the scene outright while other safewords can communicate a willingness to continue, but at a reduced level of intensity, sir.”

Snape had to press his lips together to keep from saying something scathing. She had pretty much memorized the definition of a safeword verbatim. Much like she did in her classes at school. He rolled his eyes, letting out a small breath. “Quite right, Miss Granger. How about you use your own words and tell me again?”

She blushed scarlet and he stifled a laugh. “Sorry, sir. I have a photographic memory, sir. It’s just easier to repeat what I see in my head, sir.”

“That actually explains a lot, Miss Granger,” he said begrudgingly. “Now, your own words.”

“A safeword is put in place for a submissive to let a Dominant know to stop all actions immediately, sir. More than one safeword can be put into place, sir. For example, a submissive could use the safeword ‘yellow’ to warn her dominant that they are reaching their limit and the safeword ‘red’ to let her dominant know their limit has been reached and all actions need to stop immediately. Sir.”

“Precisely. The examples you just used will be your safewords this evening, Miss Granger. If you so choose, you can come up with something more creative for the future.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you know what your limits are, Miss Granger?”

“No, sir. I have not explored this in real life in any capacity, sir. I have no idea what my limits are, sir. There are many, many things that I am intrigued to try, sir.”

“Give me some examples.” There was a pause and he watched her take a deep, steadying breath, obviously embarrassed. Then the words started to stream out of her.

“Spanking, paddling, riding crops, floggers – the floggers are especially enthralling for me, sir. I watched a video online that left me absolutely breathless, sir. I’m interested in restraints and other forms of bondage, sir. Rope play…and, well, suspension looks very exciting – but also quite terrifying, sir. I wouldn’t object to multiple partners – I’m more interested in being with two men than another woman, but I’m not opposed to being with another woman, sir. Role play, anal play, plugs, anal intercourse – ”

He broke off her rapid fast, embarrassing declarations with a grin she didn’t see. Her blush was so deep, he could see it in the roots of her hair. “Let’s just say you’re open to explore.”

“Yes, sir.” It was a whisper. She sounded thankful that she had been interrupted.

“Do you have any hard limits – things you know you absolutely do not want to try?”

“Blood play, sir.” The answer was firm, definite. “Anything that would leave permanent marks or pierce the skin is out for me, sir. Fisting looks terribly uncomfortable as well, sir – but I’m not completely and totally opposed, just hesitant, sir. Insertion of odd objects also makes me skittish, sir.”

This time he wasn’t able to hold back a laugh. “Very well, Miss Granger.”

“Permission to speak freely for a moment, sir.”

This request made him pause, amazed. From what he understood, everything she had learned about being a sexual submissive was done through reading – and apparently some online videos. She obviously had read a lot. “Granted.”

“Thank you, sir. I find myself being very relieved to have found myself here with you tonight, sir.” She let out a slow breath as his mind tried to wrap around that startling statement. “While I know I do not know you on a personal level, sir, I do feel I know enough about you and your character to confidently place my trust in you, sir. I would feel comfortable having you test my limits, sir.”

He was stunned with her admission, and uncharacteristically touched. It took a full minute for him to respond. “I welcome your candor, Miss Granger. Your … trust … in me is … it’s appreciated.”

“You’re welcome, sir. It’s only the truth, sir.”

He was beginning to feel uncomfortable. He was very unused to people putting their trust in him so quickly – if at all. Often times, one glance at the mark on his arm and scenes ended fairly abruptly. That was, until he’d learned to glamor the damned thing. He changed the subject swiftly. “How many times has someone besides yourself made you orgasm within half an hour?”

“Once, sir.”

“What do you mean, once? Are you unable to have multiple orgasms?” He sounded irritatingly confused by this answer.

“I have received three orgasms not done by my hand since I became sexually active at nineteen, sir. My partners have usually relied on my being able to induce my own pleasure, sir.”

Silence. Silence so deep it made her uncomfortable and she felt the need to rush, defend, and explain.

“It’s not that all my partners have been…well…” She changed her mind, it was as it was. She shouldn’t be embarrassed. “I guess you could say my sex life has been less than stimulating, sir.”

“Indeed.” Silence again, and then. “How many times can you get yourself off within thirty minutes, Miss Granger?”

“That’s a better question, sir,” she said, her face heated even as she smirked. Talking to Professor Snape – of all people – about orgasms. How did life get so surreal? “Most of the time I can get myself off between five and six times, sir. Once I made myself come ten times in thirty-five minutes, but I haven’t been able to repeat that experience, sir.”

More silence.

That stretched on.

Then he cleared his throat. “Tell me how.”

“A Muggle novelty shop toy, sir. They call it _The Rabbit_ , sir. It was the first time I had ever used a toy quite like that, sir.”

Snape had to bite back another laugh. He was familiar with the aforementioned toy. His cock was getting hard. Ten times in thirty-five minutes was quite impressive.

“Tell me about other toys you use.”

“Oh. Um.” She bit her lip and he almost groaned, watching that plump, juicy bit of skin as it disappeared into her mouth. He continued to circle her, relishing the high spots of color on her cheek bones, her breasts were works of art topped with pink points of pleasure. She was in excellent shape, lightly defined muscles, minimal body fat, toned legs. He approved whole heartedly of the dark strip of neatly trimmed pubic hair that covered her sex. Most young women these days preferred to go bare – it made him slightly uncomfortable. He wasn’t really interested in bedding girls. His questions were embarrassing her, which he found lovely. “I have bullet, a Hitachi wand, nipple clamps, a moderately sized dildo that vibrates, and a small anal plug, sir.”

He couldn’t have been more surprised if she had told him she’d fucked the entire Slytherin Quidditch team. Nipple clamps? An _anal plug_? Fucking hell, she was more adventurous than he had given her credit for. Very interesting.  
  
“How big is ‘moderately sized?’” He was feeling snarky, relishing the crimson of her blush across her breasts.  
  
“Seven inches, sir.”

“Hmm. So, a bit above average. Have you used these toys with any of your partners?”

“Oh, no, sir.”

This confused him. “Why not?”

“I asked once, sir.” She said quietly. “My partner at the time told me it was repugnant and he wouldn’t use them with me.” Her voice broke off for a split second, and he was saddened to find her ducking her head lower, her lips trembled slightly before she continued, obviously bothered by the memory. “I was horribly embarrassed and never worked up the nerve to be shot down quite like that again.” He swore silently, angry for her and at the idiot who had made her so uncomfortable with her own sexuality. Her voice was small, and he almost regretted what he had to do after she had shared such a sensitive bit of information, but he had told her the consequences. It was time to get the snitch flying.

“You have earned yourself ten spankings, Miss Granger. Tell me what you forgot to do.”

Her breath hitched and a fresh wave of embarrassment flooded her cheeks. She looked up and met his eyes for the first time since she had stripped. He almost recoiled at her devastation, but held himself in check. The look was reminiscent of all the times he failed to give her credit where credit had been due. When she had worked hard and hadn’t received any reward for her efforts. It bothered him when it shouldn’t. She had not followed the rules, she was told she would be punished if she made a mistake.  
  
“I forgot to call you sir at the end of my last two sentences.” She whispered, clearly horrified. He searched her eyes for a split second before turning away from her, outwardly indifferent to her predicament.

“And you just earned yourself five more. Stand.” He said coolly. She berated herself internally for her childish mistake. He sounded so disappointed, which made her heart ache with shame. It was the only directive he had given her and she had already messed it up – three times in a row!

He did not offer to help her up this time. Even though she had been in position for less than fifteen minutes, it took her a few tries, but she finally made it to her feet, self-consciously folding her arms around her breasts. Her legs trembled with pins and needles.

“Put your arms _down_ , witch.” He snapped. “You will not cover yourself under any circumstances, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir!” It was a quick, startled reaction and she dropped her arms to her sides, her hands balling into fists.

“Bend over that table.” He indicated the small, round, wooden table just past the seating area. She studied it for a moment, wondering if he lived here. “Now!” It came out quite harsh, and she almost felt like she was back in third year Potions class.

She gave a startled yip and all but ran to the table. She stood before it awkwardly, not exactly sure how to go about what he was asking her to do, before feeling a none-too-gentle hand grab the hair at the base of her neck and firmly push her forward so that her breasts and face were smooshed into the table.  
  
He allowed her to turn her cheek before pressing her face into the polished wood, not without a bit of force, she winced. He bent over and his deep voice was full of warning as he rumbled in her ear. “When I ask you to do something – when any Dominant asks you to do something – you comply swiftly with no hesitations. Now, I am being a bit lenient with you because this is your first experience, but that will change quickly in this world. The retributions your Dominant’s will seek will be immediate and unyielding, and sometimes quite painful – depending upon your transgression. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Her whisper was barely audible, but apparently enough for him, because he released her.

She was trembling again, her body jerking slightly with the ferocity of her emotions. Her breaths were coming in quick gasps and she could already feel herself getting wet. Well, more wet. If she were being honest with herself, she’d basically been noticeably aroused since the moment Jonathan had helped her into the submissive position inside this room. Tears burned her eyes in surprise. This all felt so wrong…but so right. She was so turned on. _Why are his harsh words and rough handling a turn on? What in the world is the matter with me?_

“Spread your legs.” She complied immediately. “Wider!” She obeyed hurriedly.

The first slap made her eyes pop wide as an “oomphf!” was pulled from her unwillingly. After that, she sealed her lips and tried not to make any noise. After three slaps, they started to come harder and another grunt escaped her. It didn’t hurt per say, but it wasn’t a picnic on the beach either. She gave a low groan in her throat as number eight caught the juncture of her thigh, slapping her pussy more than her bum. She thought she heard a low chuckle. _Oh, my god. My ex-professor is spanking me like I’m some naughty two-year-old, and I like it._ Each slap grew slightly more intense. By slap twelve, her hips were rolling fitfully and another moan of pleasure mixed with pain was pulled from her.

Slap thirteen fell on her sex again and sounded wet. She sucked a sharp intake of breath as she heard a low “Fucking hell!” leave his lips. Fourteen and fifteen landed hard on her right then left cheeks in quick succession, reverberating up her spine, causing a whimper of pain.

“Well, well, well.” Snape’s deep baritone followed the jolt up her spine but seemed to veer off to her nipples, making them tighten painfully. She jumped with a lascivious growl as she felt a finger graze her slit. “It quite appears you enjoyed that, Miss Granger. Perhaps I didn’t spank you hard enough? It _was_ supposed to be a punishment.” She didn’t need to know she had been set up to fail. Say sir at the end of every sentence? That was a little much, even for him.

“No, sir. I mean, yes, sir!” She panted and he chuckled again. She realized that before tonight she had never heard him laugh before. It was a shame, she liked the sound of his laugh. Deep and throaty – extraordinarily masculine.

“Yes, you liked that? Or yes, I didn’t spank you hard enough?”

“Oh, gods.” Her brain was fuzzy and she was still breathless. Her body thrumming with life, her pussy screaming its need. She pulled herself together long enough to answer. “I liked it, sir. No, it didn’t need to be harder, but I wouldn’t object to more, sir.”

Snape raised an eyebrow at her slender back before slowly raising his hands to his belt buckle. “Shall we up the intensity?” It seemed to her a rhetorical question, but she didn’t want to disappoint him again.

“What do you have in mind, sir?” Her question was hesitant, a trace of nervousness was evident.

 _Time to push her a little harder._ “How about you just shut that pretty little mouth and I’ll see to your needs…hmm?”

Part of her felt like she should be affronted by that statement. The rational part of her. The piece of her personality that didn’t allow her to be pushed around. The part that had to be strong to defend her choices, her friends, her clients. _That’s part of the problem, though, yeah?_ Her need to be in control had never gotten her anywhere in her sex life and intimate relationships except unsatisfied and unfulfilled.

So, instead of letting out Hermione Granger, QC, Attorney at Law, she let out who she thought she wanted to learn to be: Hermione Granger, submissive. “Yes, sir,” she whispered, giving this man free reign with her body completely and instantaneously at his request. Hadn’t he already given her more pleasure and excitement in less than an hour than any of her previous lovers combined?

Snape stared at the back of her head in disbelief. He had been almost positive that nasty little statement would have pulled her personality out. He had been expecting her to snap at him, to whip around and tell him off. The fact that she had thought before she had answered baffled him. This was definitely not the school girl he remembered. He slowly took a couple of steps to the side to look at her face. Her eyes were closed, her lips drawn into a small frown. There was a crease of tension across her forehead. She had pulled her arms into herself, resting her face against one wrist. She looked…well she looked bloody beautiful. She also looked contemplative and sincere in her acquiescence.

He continued to remove his belt, sliding it through the loops as audibly as possible. He smirked when her respirations increased, knowing she must have figured out what he was about.

“This is not a punishment, Miss Granger,” he told her softly, using one hand to smooth over her reddened buttocks. “Take a couple deep breaths to calm yourself, and we’ll begin again.”

“Yes, sir.” Her voice was barely audible. He watched as she pulled in a slow breath, and then another, then he brought her back to reality with a smooth, strong _thwap_ of his belt across her backside. He heard her quick inhalation of breath, it had surprised her, and then her back was arching for more. He stifled a groan and obliged, laying the next three in quick succession, watching her pant and roll her hips. He homed in on her slick sex and watched with utter fascination as a trickle of her arousal slid down one smooth, inner thigh. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a witch so wet.

“This is five,” he landed the blow. “Count and thank me after each stroke from here on out,” he demanded in a gravelly voice. He had to adjust himself, having grown hard quickly at her submission and heady arousal. He could smell her. Thus far, Hermione Granger was turning out to be a very interesting turn of events. He struck her again, harder than the last.

“Six! Thank you, sir.” She murmured.

“Louder,” he commanded. _Thwap!_ Harder yet.

“Seven, thank you sir!” It came out louder, but between clenched teeth, so it was muffled.

 _Thwap_! “Louder!” he ordered, adjusting himself again as she moaned, stamping one foot before getting back in position. _Bloody fuck, she’s responsive._

She unclenched her jaw and forcefully said. “Eight! Thank you, sir!”

“Up on your toes, spread your legs wider.”

She complied without hesitancy, popping up onto the toes of her low heels and walking her feet a few more inches apart. _Merlin, she has a beautiful pussy. I can’t believe she followed that directive without questions._ Her folds were sparkling, his hardon was weeping. He landed the belt with even more force. It fell across the apex of her thighs, grazing her slit. The sound was wet and stole her breath. It was a full ten seconds before she squeaked out. “Nine. Thank you, sir!” Then air whooshed out of her.

THWAP!

The last stroke was the hardest he had struck her all night. Leaving a strip of white across her bum before fading back to pink. Her backside was a beautiful, rosy color at this point.

“Oww!” She tucked her knees slightly, panting quickly through her nose before straightening and raising her bum again. “Ten! Thank you, sir!” Her voice trembled, she sounded close to tears. He dropped the belt, palming her blazing cheeks with both hands before gently rubbing the heat with a gentle stroke. She had a lovely arse, too. Her entire body was absolutely stunning and apparently distracting, his thoughts kept coming back to his appreciation of it over and over again. She obviously took good care of herself. He liked that in a witch. Hell, he liked that in a fellow human being. It was something he had always prided himself in – physical fitness, good health. Even in his days of high stress during both wars he had managed to at least exercise and maintain his strength and stamina.

**********She sniffled, but a contented sigh left her lips as he continued to massage her bum with tender, light strokes. She didn’t move, staying almost perfectly still. Snape marveled at her control. He had never been with a witch who had stayed so calm during her very first encounter with a spanking – especially not their first encounter with a belt. Not that he’d come even close to giving it to her at full force, that would have left her bawling. It hadn’t been a punishment, though. She definitely would not have been able to restrain herself as admirably if she had been being punished.

“You’ve been a very good girl, Miss Granger.” His voice was thick with his own desire and he tried to clear his throat discreetly.

There was another sniffle and he sought her face out behind the mass of unruly brown curls. She had a soft smile on her lips and used her fingertips to wipe away a trickle of moisture at the corner of one eye. “Thank you, sir,” she whispered, pushing her bum back into his hands. He slid his other hand up her side and over the small of her back, following the line of her spine, trying to smooth the tension away.

A soft groan of pleasure escaped her and he stifled yet another visceral reaction. She was so bloody reactive, he was having a hard time getting over this fact. He had never anticipated his response to her to be so intense.

“I feel a reward is owed, do you consent?” There wasn’t even a beat before her hips were rolling and a hum filled her chest. Eagerness, excitement. Yes, she was ready. Now just the words needed to be said.

“Yes, sir. I consent, sir.”

He had almost hoped she’d slip in her answer and he’d get to spank her some more, but he was high on what they had done already. She was acting like a well-trained sub as it was, his prick was going to be permanently stuck to the inside of his trousers if he didn’t let it out soon. But first, a climax for the lioness. Something she had definitely not had enough of over these last years. Three climaxes not by her hand – the fools she must have slept with.

He slipped a finger into her slit, parting her lips like the red sea. Her arousal was like slippery silk. She was absolutely saturated with her excitement. “Yes,” his hissed, bring his other hand up to part her bum, giving him a better view and reveling in her whimpers as he slowly circled her clit. “You have a beautiful cunt, Miss Granger.”

Hermione felt a wave of crimson flush her entire body. All her life she had thought that was one of the most vulgar words anyone could say. But here? Now? In that voice? This man telling her those words - it was the most erotic moment of her life. She made a needy noise in her throat and arched her back again, not even caring how wanton she was coming across. She _was_ wanton. She wanted his fingers in her, she wanted him to fuck her senseless. She wanted…oh, she wanted _THAT_. “Ahhhh,” she whinged as two long fingers slipped inside of her, his other hand coming around her waist to play her pleasure button like a violin. She was already so close and he had barely touched her.

“Tell me what you want, Miss Granger.”

“Fuck,” she muttered and he laughed.

“That’s not an answer, Miss Granger.” His fingers pressed down and she almost bolted off the table. _Shite! What the bloody hell was that?_

“Mm,” he grunted as another fresh coat of excitement slipped around his fingers, he slid a third into her with no resistance and continued to work her g-spot all the while playing her clit like an expert maestro.

“Tell me what you _want_ , Miss Granger, or I’ll stop.” His words brooked no argument.

She forced her mind to clear, sensations sweeping her body like the pounding of a waterfall. She did _not_ want him to stop. “I want more, please, sir.” She was begging, and she didn’t care.

“Please what, Miss Granger?”

“Ooooh, Gods. Please make me come, sir,” she ground out. She was so bloody close already; her tummy was clenched tighter than a bow string.

“You’d better ask my permission, Miss Granger. There will be another punishment if you come without permission.”

 _What?!_ “Oh, sir. Please, may I come?” He grinned triumphantly as he felt her walls start to flutter, and purposely didn’t answer her. He felt her freeze and her body tightened even more. “Sir, please may I come?” It was urgent, and he didn’t stop his ministrations, nor did he give her permission to orgasm. He would make her beg.

He could feel her rising panic, her desire to please him, he pushed down his amusement and arousal and continued his assault on her rubbing the bumpy expanse of her g-spot. He felt the walls of her vagina clamp on him and realized she was trying to hold off her orgasm. It was impressive – very impressive.

“Sir?” Her voice was heavily strained, almost tearful. “Please, sir. Please, may I come?”

Her begging was so sweet, music to his ears, but he took pity on her. “Come, Miss Granger.”

He had barely said the words when a dam broke over his fingers, her muscles clamping down so hard around them he swore sharply. He felt a trickle of liquid run down his palm, and while it wasn’t the deluge he had seen some women release, it was enough evidence that, with practice, he could turn this young woman into a squirtter.

The sounds, though. Merlin, help him. The sounds that were pulled sadistically out of her body as she reached her peek were intoxicating. Starting low and exploding as she rocked back to meet the thrust of his hand. Her palms slammed flat on the table and her head arched back, her jaw dropping with wordless praises.  
  
He kept his fingers sliding quickly and heatedly over her clit as the three digits inside of her continued to slam through her orgasm. Out of nowhere she frantically shouted. “May I come again, sir?!” His head snapped up in shock at her desperate plea and he was about to say yes, just to satisfy his curiosity if she really could, when her body literally exploded, tremors violently wracking her extremities as she shouted her second release.

Her back bowed and he pulled his fingers out of her, using that hand to jerk her up against his chest, her back to his front, cupping one of her insanely perfect breasts as he continued to manipulate the ball of nerves at the apex of her thighs. Her knees buckled and if he hadn’t been holding her, he was certain she would have crumpled to the ground. As it was, her head lolled back onto his shoulder, her hips jerking erratically.

“You didn’t have permission for that one, Miss Granger,” he grinned wickedly into the hair at her temple. He could definitely use this to his advantage. He pulled a taut nipple with the hand that was holding her against him, continuing to strum her clit. She squirmed, trying to get away from him – overwhelmed with the sensation. He held her fast, one leg curling around hers, holding her thighs apart. Her hips jerked and she gasped another expletive. “But come again, right now, and I’ll forgive you.”

“Yes, sir,” she panted, and came a third time with barely any more prodding. He was floored, his mind reeling at her sensitivity. He growled and spun her, hoisting her to the table. She landed on her tender bum and cried out from the discomfort. He invaded her personal space thoroughly, pushing his straining erection into the cradle of her hips.

The friction of the fabric did fabulous things to her quim, starting her pleasure all over again, and she moaned loudly, frantically clutching his shirt at his shoulders into her fists, pulling him closer to her.

“I’d like to fuck you, now, Miss Granger,” he hissed in her ear, nipping her lobe, then the sensitive flesh at the base of her ear and down her neck as her body continued to tremble against him. She arched into his lips, sighing at the sensation of his mouth on her. He clenched the fleshy swell of her bum in his hands and pulled her to the edge of the table. His erection was beyond painful, straining frantically for release from its confines.

“Oh, Gods yes, Professor,” she agreed on a low hiss, grinding into his erection.

Her noun usage doused him with the cold water of surprise and he jerked away from her almost violently. He was not used to be called Professor anymore. It had been almost ten years since he worked at Hogwarts. _Bloody hell,_ he ran a startled hand through his hair. He had been about to throw his own protocol out the window, completely lost in the moment. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d given in to just doing and feeling and not thinking first.

She didn’t seem to notice at first, but as her eyes blinked open slowly, dazed and confused at the loss of his warmth and touch, she took in his quickly cooling features and blushed fiercely. She started to bring an arm up to cover herself before stiffening like a child playing freeze tag, knowing it would displease him if she covered herself. His eyes followed her movements, but his cool mask didn’t change. She forced her hand back down to the table, pushing herself into a sitting position instead of sprawled out like some shameless whore. She curled into herself, confused and embarrassed and still frighteningly turned on.

He regretted his abrupt reaction, especially after witnessing the myriad of emotions that were flitting across her face. Desire, lust, and neediness turned to confusion and embarrassment, settling on unsureness, and finally shame. He didn’t like that last emotion in the least – it was one that too many people who were new to this lifestyle carried like the weight of the world was on their shoulders.

Neither spoke for a long moment, both gasping, completely breathless. Then, she finally worked up the nerve to speak. “Did…did I do something wrong, si-ir?” she whispered, her voice breaking. He didn’t miss the tears, didn’t miss the uncertainty and doubt of herself.

He reacted without thinking, moving back to her and pulling her into a tight embrace. “No, Miss Granger. No. You did nothing wrong.” She sat frozen in his arms for a moment before melting into him, her arms coming around him, palms splaying flat on his back.

“I’m sorry, I got carried away.” His voice was gruff, he was angry with himself. Her responses had been…more than he could have imagined. His attraction to her was alarming in its intensity. He had to end it now. Now, before it got way out of hand. Fucking a potential submissive on her first encounter was what he considered bad form. Not all Doms felt this way, but he did. He mentally cursed himself for getting so swept away. It hadn’t helped that she had been almost perfect. He said almost only because she had fallen into his trap of not saying sir at the end of every sentence. He pulled away from her slowly, disentangling himself from her arms. He clasped both of her hands in his before ducking his head to catch her eyes.

“Do you believe me, Miss Granger?”

Her eyes were wet with tears and uncertainty was still strongly present, but she sniffled and nodded once. He turned from her then, crossing the room to snatch up her dress before returning to her. He helped her put it on, not able to stop himself from trailing his fingers up her spine as he pulled up the zipper. He lead her by her hand to the large arm chair he favored, sitting down before pulling her into his lap and tucking her head under his chin. He smoothed a hand down her spine, his mind still spinning. He was not one to make such careless mistakes. She shivered at his touch and he had to bite back his reaction, he felt like his effing glans were going to break. He was still incredibly hard. If she noticed, she had the grace to say nothing.

“That was intense,” he said after a long silence. “I forgot myself for a moment. I never sleep with a submissive during my first session with them, just as I never train submissives. It’s important for me to make you understand that you did nothing wrong – I don’t wish to turn you away because you felt the experience ended badly.”

She stayed silent. Everything about the last few minutes was horribly confusing. She had been at the very top, her body singing with pleasure, completely lost in the moment with him. She had forgotten who she was, who he was. All that had mattered was the way he was making her feel, how she was reacting to his touch, his voice, his words. Then it ended abruptly and alarmingly.

She understood that he was telling her he let himself get too out of control – but it had been everything she had wanted, more than she could have dreamed. She had always believed she could experience this unbridled passion, and was overjoyed to find it. Having it end the way it did was just shy of devastating. Part of her wanted to flee in absolute horror, part of her wanted to tell him it was okay and be demure and respectful, and part of her wanted to take control and demand he finish what he started – because even though she felt sated, her body felt empty. She had been on absolute fire for him and it had been doused unceremoniously.

She knew which of those three scenarios to ditch immediately – a Dominant would not take well to being dominated. She could demand nothing from him without getting a reaction she knew she did not want. She didn’t want to flee, to show weakness. So, she went with the only option she had left – submission.

“I understand, sir,” she said quietly. His tender ministrations were starting to make her bit uncomfortable, she had come back to herself enough to realize she was being held by her old Potions professor. That he had just seen her naked, spanked her with his hand and belt, and had his fingers inside her. _And gave you as many orgasms in thirty minutes then you’ve had in eight years._ Not to mention she was sitting on a very noticeable arousal, which was not helping hers abate at all.

Her words, this time, were not a surprise to him. It was obvious at this point that he had been very wrong – Hermione Granger was a natural submissive. This did not mean she didn’t need to be trained and educated in the lifestyle, but it did makes sense that he had gotten caught up and lost himself with how well controlled she was. Or that’s what he was going to tell himself, anyway.

He was almost disappointed when she pulled away from him, but stood when she did. His brain felt fuzzy as he watched her gather her purse and her wand and cast a cleansing charm on herself and another charm that detangled her hair, leaving it looking much smoother than the mass of frizzy curls he had helped work up. He preferred it a mess, that realization bothered him. _Pull yourself together, you idiot._

When she spoke to him, he almost didn’t catch the meaning of her words. He knew his face was impassive, guarded, but inside his world had tilted on its axis. He answered her questions about what she should do next by directing her to speak with Jonathan on her way out. He would get her set up to move forward. He didn’t ask to see her again, she didn’t ask him a second time if he would consent to train her. Then again, he had all but told her he wouldn’t.  
  
She almost shattered him when she came back to him before leaving. She wrapped her arms around his waist and stood on her toes to press a sweet kiss to his cheek before laying her head on his chest, pressing her ear to his heart for a moment. It was unarming, and he was so surprised that he almost didn’t react at all.

“Thank you, sir.” Her voice was sincere and husky. “For a very memorable evening.” He couldn’t stop himself from tangling a hand in her hair and holding her in place for a moment, then. Memorable was an understatement. She pulled away reluctantly and he walked her to his door and saw her out. When it shut behind her, he felt strangely bereft.


	4. Chapter Four

  


* * *

**Chapter Four**

* * *

 

“It’s perfect,” Hermione whispered, turning so her back was in the mirror. The sales lady from _Tease – Exotic Lingerie_ , was beaming at her from the side of the tri-fold mirror as Hermione studied her reflection. She had left _The Dungeon_ the night before on a strange mix of highs and lows. She had been absolutely flying with her experience with Snape, but the lows came from his abrupt cutoff of their scene. It wasn’t that she hadn’t believed him when he told her she had done nothing wrong. Not to toot her own horn, but she felt as though she had done _extremely_ well considering she had never been spanked in her life – with a _belt_ no less!

And the way he had touched her. All the anticipation and teasing. The way he spoke to her, made her ask permission for her climax and then didn’t grant it. She had played around with delayed gratification on her own, so she had been able to hold off the first orgasm long enough for him to finally give her permission – but the second. Oh, Gods. She had _never_ come like that before, one on top of another. And a third to boot. When he had spun her and threw her back on the table like a man possessed, she thought she was going to come again at the rough handling. The contact of his mouth on her skin…well, she had thought his touch set her ablaze…his lips were an inferno of sensation.

She wished he had not pulled away. Gods, but she had wanted him naked and inside her. She squirmed in the mirror, rubbing her thighs together impatiently. Her frigging knickers were soaked. Had been all damn day. She sighed.

“You look stunning.” The woman agreed and Hermione’s attention was brought back to her reflection. It had been less than eighteen hours since she had walked through the door of _The Dungeon,_ and from the moment she had woken up that morning, she had declared she would return. She wanted…no… _needed_ to find a Dominant to train her. Now that she had gotten a taste, now that she knew that there were men out there who could make her body sing like that, she _needed_ it.

Her first thought was to look the part. After a hot shower and a late breakfast, she had high tailed it into Muggle-London. She stopped at an internet café for a coffee, and, after having found two risqué lingerie shops online, she went shopping.

She was starting safe. From everything she had read, when she found a Dom, he would most likely control her attire. This was perfectly fine with Hermione. In fact, she would welcome it. One less thing for her to have to worry about and stress over. For now, though, she had to figure this out on her own.

This was why she was standing in front of the mirror in a corset and a pair of skin tight leather leggings. The corset was made of tightly sewn silver sequins – a bit flashy for her, but the sales lady insisted it would go well with her coloring. She wasn’t wrong. Paired with the leather leggings, it was sexy and flashy, but not overly revealing or trashy. She figured she would probably be one of the most conservatively dressed witches in attendance, but she didn’t want to go in guns blazing, so to speak.

The corset was lined with a black ruffle lace at the top of the sweetheart neckline and at the bottom (which sat directly on her hips) with a pretty silk bows in the middle of her cleavage and at the top of each thigh. It was snug, so snug she was just a smidge uncomfortable, but her boobs looked amazing as the tops of the soft mounds of flesh were pushed up and together and her waist looked impossibly tiny. Her silky-smooth shoulders were bare, her skin looked like porcelain against the black lace. The leather pants accented her slender legs and cupped her bum into a delicious, lifted, apple bottomed globe, and showed off the fact that she had a gap between her thighs. She snorted at that. It was something her mother had complained of her whole life – her thighs touching. Hermione seemed to naturally have that coveted gap, though it could very much have everything to do with her exercise regimen. Exercise was her stress relief.  
  
She studied herself a few minutes more before firmly deciding this was it. She wasn’t going to look any further. If she was honest with herself, she was hoping Snape would sit up and take notice and change his mind about training her if she looked the part. She certainly felt the part.

Twenty minutes later, she was on her way home with her purchases. After some talk, the sales lady had steered her away from the impossibly high stilettos to a pair of simple, elegant black patent leather ballet flats. She felt it worked well with the rest of the outfit. She was trying…but not trying too hard. It also kept her looking small and dainty and feeling especially feminine in the outfit.  
  
Being a Saturday, she had dinner plans with her friends at six. She would beg off early and head home to change and hopefully be back to _The Dungeon_ by nine.

On her way out the door the night before, Jonathan had caught her attention, handing her a stack of paperwork and telling her the password for the next night and the following week. He explained that the passwords were changed weekly, and if she decided to join the club (once her paperwork was done and dues were paid) she’d receive an owl post weekly with the new one. Then he’d winked at her and sent her out the door. Completing these items gave her full access to all levels.

She’d already read and signed the non-disclosure agreement. There were a couple other legal forms that discussed member responsibilities and agreements, who paid for medical care if there were an accident, and so on. Everything was well done and she had no second thoughts signing those forms.

The last thing she had been given was an example of a Dom/sub contract. She had questions, but she was sure she could find someone to talk to about them when she went back tonight. Her understanding was she didn’t actually fill out a contract until she had a Dominant trainer and or a Dominant.

* * *

“No, no,” Hermione insisted. Her heart was thrumming with anticipation as she hugged Harry and then Ginny. “I’m so wiped. I stayed at the office too late last night and didn’t get enough sleep. I’m going to call it an early night.”

“Only if you’re sure,” Ginny watched her friend carefully for a moment before shrugging. “I just felt bad that Luna and I kinda ditched you so early the last time we went out.”

“It’s okay, truly. I know your guys’ lifestyle is so different from mine right now.” _If you knew how different, you’d pee yourselves._ “Don’t feel guilty. I understand.”

“Okay, ‘Mione,” Harry wrapped her up in another tight hug. She waved over his shoulder and Ron and Luna before backing out the door.

She practically ran to the Apparition point in her excitement to get home and get ready. She was already running later than she had wanted to be. With a _crack_ she was in her living room, her shoes and top were off before she even made it to her bedroom door where her new outfit was waiting for her on the bed. She stripped off her jeans and was magicking herself into her new outfit before she’d barely stepped out of them. She stopped by the bathroom to empty her bladder and freshen her lipstick before taking a moment to charm the silk, cat-eye mask she had purchased earlier that afternoon. Satisfied, she threw her cloak on, grabbed her purse, and paperwork and... _Breathe!_ She told herself. _Do you have everything?_

She forced herself to stop and take stock. She was dressed, she had shoes on, she had the paperwork, her bag, her wand. _Breathe._ She took two deep breaths, and on the third, spun on the spot.

She landed in Knockturn Alley’s Apparition point with a swirl of her cloak, still telling herself to breathe and calm down. Oh, Gods, she was excited. She power walked through the alley, stopping before the club. With one last deep breath, she walked up to the door and knocked with no hesitancy.

“You’re back!” Jonathan exclaimed a few minutes later. “The look on your face last night told me you would be. He’s good, isn’t he?”

Hermione showed her teeth in a nervous grin and nodded as she took a seat at the bar. It was much busier tonight and her gaze couldn’t be contained. In a booth in the back, two masked men were trying to taste each other’s tonsils. At a table just to her right, two men were conversing in low, deep tones and smoking cigars while a woman wearing cat ears and tail and nothing else sat on the floor between their feet, her head resting on one man’s thigh while he stroked her hair.

At the opposite end of the bar there was a gaggle of three witches in shiny plastic cat suits in neon colors with pony tails high on top of their heads – they were whispering in each other’s ears and giggling madly.

She turned her wide-eyes back to Jonathan. “You look stunning, Poppet,” he was looking her up and down with new interest. “New outfit?”

She smiled again, tucking her bag between her feet and laying her papers flat on the bar. “It is,” she felt a blush steal across her cheeks. “I couldn’t help myself. I signed the club agreements and NDA. I have those here. Do you take wand payments for dues?”

She didn’t miss the look of surprise that flitted across his face. “Jumping in with both feet, Poppet?” He laughed at her.

“I think I did that last night. Now I demand to be taught to swim,” she quipped. “It was an amazing experience. This is exactly what I’ve been looking for – before I even knew I was looking for it.”

He gave her a look that told her he understood exactly what she meant. He grabbed her papers and glanced them over for a moment, mostly to make sure everything was filled out correctly (all the bartenders were trained to hand out, explain, and collect paperwork and dues before turning them into the daytime office manager). She noted the small gasp as his mouth popped open and he looked up at her quickly. Now she knew she was blushing scarlet.

Before she could say anything, he had recovered himself long enough to reach out and cover her hand with his. When she looked surprised he explain. “Garrick Ollivander is my great-grandfather on my mother’s side,” he whispered. “You saved his life.”

“Oh!” Hermione felt tears fill her eyes and she clenched her teeth to help stem them before flipping her palm over and squeezing his hand. He engulfed her fingers in both his palms and squeezed.

“Thank you,” he said. “From my entire family.”

“It wasn’t me,” she said softly. “It was Harry and Ron – Do-Dobby got us out of there.”

“I know the story,” he said kindly, reaching up to touch her face gently with the back of his fingers. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She cleared her tight throat before squeezing his hand again. He let her go and took a deep breath before changing the subject, much to her relief.

“Your paperwork looks good and yes, we do take wand payments,” he reached out a hand and she handed him her wand. “How long do you want to pay for? One, six, or twelve months?”  
  
“Let’s start with one and see how it goes,” she smirked and he nodded and turned from her. She would never get used to people thanking her for things she had done during the war. She would never get used to people recognizing her name and acting like they knew her when they really didn’t. She didn’t mind Jonathan’s thanks, she knew he needed to say it, but she was grateful for the quick subject change.

“So, tell me what you want to know,” he struck up another conversation as he returned with a slip for her to sign and gave her wand back.

“I want to know if Master Snape will see me again.” Jonathan’s eyes widened.

“He didn’t tell you…” he trailed off and Hermione cottoned on quickly enough.

“That he doesn’t take on subs to train, yes. He did,” she shrugged, even though her tummy flipped with disappointment. “I was hoping he would at least introduce me around? He told me he would help me find a Dominant willing to train me.”

“Oh!” Johnathan looked relieved. “Sure, Poppet. I’ll run back and ask him if he’ll take you down and show you around. He’s usually game for showing off new subs and helping them out. Can I grab you a drink quick, first?”

“Merlot, please,” she said without hesitancy. She would need the alcohol to help steady her nerves. She was anxious to see Snape again.

* * *

“Did you see the new little young thing that came through the doors tonight?” Lucius Malfoy asked his friend as they sat side by side in the security portal. Snape’s eyes flitted from monitor to monitor, waiting for Sebastian to show for his shift. If the kid was late one more time, he’d be out on his ass. A new baby was no excuse to be late to work three times in a week.

“Sequin corset? Yeah,” Snape tried to keep his voice neutral. Miss Granger looked delectable this evening. He was surprised to see her again so quickly. Or maybe he wasn’t. He shook his head. He hadn’t had time to fully process what had transpired between them the night before. Best to play it like he knew nothing. He watched Johnathan talking to her on the monitor, was surprised to see touch her hand, then her cheek. A shot of something ran through him. It was an emotion he wasn’t completely unfamiliar with, but it had been a long time since he had felt it. He shrugged it off.

“I think I’m going to talk to her, see if I can get her story.”

 _Fuck._ Severus checked his emotions by slamming his Occlumency shields in place. Damn, he wished she hadn’t come back so quickly. He’d had no time to figure out anything that was going on in his head. All he knew is he couldn’t see her again, not yet.

“You do that, Malfoy,” Severus shrugged and flipped a hand at the door.

Lucius studied his friend for a moment. “New girl.” He said cryptically after a moment.

“Yes?” Snape pretended he no idea what Lucius was on about.

“You always go after the newbies first.” It was a statement.

“Who’s to say this is her first night?” Snape smirked at his friend, trying to play it cool.

“Ah. So you’ve had a taste. How was she?”

Snape shrugged again.

“That bad, huh? Brand new sub? Just new to the club?”

“If you’re so interested, just go find out for yourself.” It was a dismissal.

“Master Snape?” Jonathan strutted into the room, closely followed by Sebastian.

“I’m sorry, sir!” Sebastian exclaimed. “My wife is ill, I was waiting for my mother-in-law to show and -." 

“That’s enough,” Snape declared in a no-nonsense voice. “Sebastian, please make sure this doesn’t happen again. I know your home life has changed, but I cannot allow an employee to be late as often as you have been. Pull it together, or I will have to regretfully let you go.”

He dismissed the security wizard by striding directly out of the room. Jonathan followed him to his personal office two doors down. Snape directed him to a chair and he sat. “What can I do for you, Jonathan?”

“The Poppet is back,” Jonathan said with a smirk. “She’s asking for you.” He purposely phrased it such to see how his boss would react. He was disappointed, Snape didn’t even flinch.

“I saw her on the monitors. Tell her I haven’t changed my mind about taking on a submissive to train.”

“No, sir. You misunderstand,” Jonathan went with the real reason he was there. “She wishes to speak to you about last night. She said you mentioned something about helping her find a Dom.”

Snape froze in the act of tucking away some papers. _Bloody hell, she was just raring to go, wasn’t she?_

_Why should that bother you? She’s excited, well researched, and a consenting adult. There have been plenty of witches who’ve come in off the streets ready to go. Why should she be any different?_

_You bloody well know why it’s different._ He shook his head, effectively chasing his thoughts away.

“Tell her I’m not available tonight and that I’m sorry. She should go home and get some rest and come back next weekend.”

“She just paid for full membership for a month and turned in her NDA and club agreement forms,” Jonathan’s voice was incredulous. “You’re really going to let her go off exploring on her own? She’s going to be one hell of a VIP, yeah? Shouldn’t we protect her a little more?”

“Fuck.” Snape snarled, wiping his face with his palm. “I really can’t show her around tonight.”

Jonathan was astonished. “What the hell happened with you two?”

Snape slammed his hands down on his desk and glared at his employee. While Jonathan was not his sub, he was _a_ sub and knew better than to speak to a Dom like that. “You will be respectful, young man. Or there will be punishment. I believe Mistress Clarisse is here tonight.”

Johnathan’s haughty face instantly smoothed out and he dropped his eyes. “I apologize, Master Snape. It’s not my place, but I’m concerned about you being so out of character. You’re usually very protective of new subs. Miss Granger is going to be fawned over. She’s young, beautiful, and famous. Don’t you think she should have someone to keep an eye on her?”

“She should,” Snape snapped, letting the bartender’s infarction go. “Tell her to come back next weekend when Master Etan and Rose can show her around.”

“Yes, sir.” Jonathan left the room without a backwards glance. Snape sat heavily in his leather office chair and dropped his face into one hand.

“Fuck.”

* * *

“Well, aren’t you a vision?” A smooth, tenor voice said, it came from directly behind her. Hermione jumped and recoiled away from the sound, whipping her head around to meet the glittering grey eyes of… _Lucius Malfoy?! Oh, my God._ Her mouth went bone dry and it took her a moment to remember how to speak.

“Thank you, sir,” she murmured politely, quickly turning back to her wine and taking a large swallow. She started to tremble. Nerves? Excitement? Trepidation? Fear? _A bloody combination of all the above, you idiot._ She chastised herself.

“You’re very welcome, my dear.” He moved to her other side. “Do you mind if I join you?”

Hermione purposely avoided his eyes but answered in the affirmative. Her heart picked up a notch as he settled his long, graceful body next to her. _Okay, so I apparently am attracted to older men. Very much part of my problem in the dating world, I think._ She _was_ attracted to him. His long elegant fingers signaled for a bartender to pour him a glass of whiskey and she watched them move with simple elegance, fascinated.

Once upon a time, this man had repulsed her more than anything in the world. He was cruel, vindictive, and a pompous, prejudice prick. That all changed at the end of her sixth year at Hogwarts, though. After Draco hadn’t been able to kill Dumbledore, Snape did. Of course, this had been huge blow to the Light. In one fell swoop they had lost two of their most powerful wizards – Dumbledore and Snape. That was, until Snape contacted Kingsley, sending along a letter and a vial of memories. Memories that had shown that Dumbledore had been dying for almost a year. That his death had been pre-arranged – assisted suicide – and that he was still working for the Light. Dumbledore had cautioned him not to reveal himself, wanting him to minimize his risk of getting caught by Voldemort.

The game had changed for the Slytherin, though, and Snape was now trying to protect someone new. The someone turned out to be some _ones_. Narcissa Malfoy had gone to Severus to beg for help for Draco – who had been punished severely for his failure to murder Dumbledore. Snape had told her the only way he could get Draco out and have his parents survive was to get them all out to a safehouse and make it look like they deserted as a family. He compromised himself for his friends and Godson, and it had been worth the effort in the end as Lucius was the one who had eventually brought Snape back from the clutches of Death himself.

The story she and the rest of the Order received from Kingsley was that Snape’s memories were untampered with and truthful. That he’d agreed to meet with Snape as long as the man would consent to an interrogation under Veritaserum. It had been done. Two months after Dumbledore’s death, the Order of the Phoenix was warily housing the three wandless Malfoys (the only way anyone was comfortable for them to be in their midst) who turned out to be amazing and worthwhile allies.

Even if she had still not been able to be in the same room with the youngest Malfoy without wanting to rip his throat out, she had grown fond of Narcissa and Lucius. Both had been so grateful to be out from under Voldemort’s thumb and have their son safe, they had been impeccable guests and strategists. Even if they had constantly walked around looking like something smelled bad.

Hermione had even gone so far once as to ask the senior Malfoy if he really thought Muggle-borns had _stolen_ magic. The man had sighed as if he were thoroughly annoyed and softly told her.  
  
_“Once, yes. I believed it with all my being. Now I’m just not sure.”_

_“I was seven when my magic manifested itself,” she answered him in a demure tone, her eyes fixed at a spot over his shoulder, not wanting to see the hate and disgust that had always been in his eyes when he looked at her. “Magic was a fairy tale. How could I have stolen it?”_

_When he didn’t answer, she continued. “If you could_ steal _magic, Mr. Malfoy, there wouldn’t be Squibs, would there?”_

_“That, my dear Miss Granger, is an excellent argument and something I will have to think on further.”_

She had known she was being dismissed and left disheartened. He never looked at her with disgust in his eyes again. Also, from that day forward, his son never referred to her as (or called her) a Mudblood.

He watched with an eyebrow cocked in amusement as she drained her glass before setting it gingerly back on the bar.

“May I buy you another drink, my dear?” Hermione glanced at him and their eyes locked. She felt a finger of heat slip up her spine and shivered.

“That would be welcomed, sir,” she said with a coy smile.

Lucius’ half smile grew to a full one, showing off brilliant white, straight, even teeth.

“I hear this is your second night,” Lucius said, after signaling the bar tender for another glass of Merlot. “How was your first?”

Hermione stayed silent for a moment, thanking the bartender when he placed a new glass of wine in front of her along with a bowl of pretzels. “Affirming.” She finally answered.

“Do explain,” Lucius liked her answer very much. So many times he’d had this conversation where the witch or wizard had said something so…boring. Life-changing, amazing, just what I hoped it would be. Affirming was one he’d never heard before.

She took a slow slip of her drink and he watched with rapt attention as a tongue slipped out between plump lips to catch a drop. He unconsciously licked his own.

“I thought this was what I wanted. I researched. I educated myself. I watched videos. I chatted with some subs in a couple different chat forums. In my head, I was already there. But I hadn’t experienced yet. Last night…” _Last night was magical, exciting, hot, and none of your damned business._ “Last night I experienced and it solidified everything for me. I now feel confident saying that I want to be a sexual submissive.”

Lucius brought a thumb and forefinger to his lips to smooth them before he opened his mouth…to be interrupted.

“Poppet, I’m so sorry,” Jonathan said as he strode back into the bar. “Master Snape is unable to show you about tonight. He suggests you come back next weekend. Master Etan and Rose will be here and they’ll be able to introduce you around.”

Lucius watched as the girls’ face fell. He was confused, Snape never turned away a sub who needed introducing – unless she was truly dreadful. But if she had been that awful, he wouldn’t have allowed her back into the club. _Something’s…up._

“Well, my dear,” Lucius said quietly. “I know I am no Master Snape, but I am a partner at this club and would be happy to give you the _full tour_.” He had to stifle a snort at his double entendre.

Johnathan let a slow, satisfied grin slide across his face as he looked from the new little one to Master Lucius. They would probably be a dynamite match. He wondered if Malfoy would try and scene with her. “You’d be safe with Master Lucius, Poppet. He may look like a slippery snake, but he takes good care of the subs here.”

Hermione turned to appraise Malfoy for a moment before dipping her head in a nod. “I would be honored for you to show me around, sir.”

“Jonathan, will you take her bag and put it somewhere safe,” Lucius dipped his hand below her chair, brushing her down the leg and making her jump with surprise on the way to retrieve her purse before he straightened up and handed the small bag to the bartender. He stood and offered his arm to Hermione as she pushed to stand, helping her move her stool out of her way. She took his arm and glanced over her shoulder at Jonathan who grinned and gave her a thumbs-up.

She snapped her head back to her host when she felt soft fingertips trail over her arm. Her eyes narrowed. She was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to be touching her without her permission. Offering his arm was one thing, sliding his fingertips over her skin quite another. Then his words disarmed her.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have skin like a porcelain doll?” He said softly. “Perfect peaches and cream and utterly flawless. Couple that with your petite size and your abundance of hair and I wouldn’t mind putting you on a pedestal to admire.” His eyes caught hers and they twinkled with warmth and the sincerity of his compliment and her complaints flew from her mind. She felt pleasure seep through her body and a blush rise to her cheek bones.

“Stunning,” he said, leaning his head down so his lips were almost touching her cheek. “Before this night is over, Doll, I would like to see the rest of your delectable body. Do keep that in mind.”

Hermione was hard pressed to keep the moan from leaving her throat. As it was, she squirmed, feeling her arousal heighten. _I wonder what he would be thinking if he knew it was me,_ she mused. Then she realized they had come to a stop at the bottom of a flight of stairs.

Her mouth dropped in shock. Before her was living enactments of many things she had read about over the past couple of weeks. Things that had excited her, as well as things that terrified her. They were in a vast room, dotted with couches and arm chairs and many, many sexual props and benches. A few dozen people milled about, many engaged in some sort of sexual act, others watching or waiting their turn. 

To the right of her was a raised dais, a stage. It was dark, tonight, and she found herself oddly disappointed. Exhibitionism was something she was eager to witness and possibly experience. A performance would not have been a disappointment for her tonight.

A St. Andrew’s Cross stood near a back corner, empty as well. Pity, she would be really curious to see that use. A man was suspended by his arms and torso near the center of the room. More people being flogged. The girl who was dressed as a cat from earlier was strapped arms and legs to a bench directly in front of her, a red ball gag in her mouth while one of the two men she had been with upstairs used a riding crop on her upturned bum.

She didn’t know where to look first and her heart started to pound in earnest. The worst thing about this new space was it was dark and her mask only inhibited her vision further. She turned to her host. “I’m going to remove my mask. I wish to see without it being in the way.”

Lucius Malfoy raised an eyebrow curiously, but nodded and let go of her arm. “Mr. Malfoy,” she said, a note of warning in her voice. “Prepare yourself, sir. I think I will surprise you.”

Lucius gave a start at the formal address. He had not properly introduced himself, and while it wasn’t uncommon for him to be recognized, she seemed a bit young to know who he was. He watched curiously as she lifted her fingers to her mask and muttered the incantation to remove it. _Merlin’s fucking bollocks!_ He knew his shock registered completely when her lips curved into a knowing smile as she slipped her mask into the impossibly tight back pocket of her leggings.

A feather could have pushed him over when he looked into the lovely face of none other than Hermione fucking Granger. _Now I’m_ sure _something is up. Snape said he’d had a taste. Seven years of this Doll driving him mad and he didn’t want to Dominate her again tonight? Told her to go home and come back next weekend? There’s a story there he’s not telling me._

Heat filled him, the attraction growing that much deeper. He had watched this girl grow up, fight a war, turn into a truly beautiful young woman. She was a force of nature, someone he reluctantly admired. An intellectual equal. Powerfully magical. _A sexual submissive my arse. I’ll bet that’s why Snape declined to introduce her._ She had a temper hotter than dragon fire and bollocks bigger than most wizards he knew. There was no way she would be a good submissive.

“Why, Miss Granger. What a delightful surprise.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To see photos that inspired the sequinn corset in this chapter, find us on FB or Tumblr:
> 
> Facebook: www.facebook.com/snowand.lissa.7
> 
> Tumblr: LissaDream AND SnowBlind12


	5. Chapter Five

 

* * *

**Chapter Five**  

* * *

“Why, Miss Granger. What a delightful surprise.” His grin was turning predatory, and he knew it. He could bloody care less if she was a good submissive or not, he wanted to scene with her. It would be utterly delicious to correct any poor behavior. As long as he got to touch that gorgeous skin of hers. Perhaps even fuck her. He felt his manhood start to stiffen and he invaded her personal space all the more, giving her a triumphant smirk when he saw her eyes darken with lust before quickly moving away from his face.

“I’m glad you think so, Mr. Malfoy.” She gave a bit of a start when a warm hand settled on the small of her back and she pulled away from him.

“Sir, I mean no disrespect, but you are not my Dom. You should not be touching me without my permission.”

He didn’t bother to hide his impressed look. “You’re well taught, Miss Granger. May I ask how long you’ve been part of the lifestyle?”

“A day, sir,” she answered in a cool, but respectful tone. He snorted and she gave him a small grin. _Hermione Granger, ladies and gentlemen. And she thinks she can be a submissive?_ With that, he watched as she started to move away from him, walking slowly through the room. Eyes roaming everywhere as she took in everything she could at once.

An eyebrow rose again, but he followed her. His curiosity peeked even higher. He followed a couple of steps behind her, watching her observe their peers through lowered lashes. Her breathing had changed, coming in shorter puffs. Her eyes had darkened with what he was sure was lust and intrigue.

“I can’t imagine how hard it is to keep everything cleaned around here,” she murmured, turning her face to him as they watched the cat girl’s bum turn from pink to brick red as she moaned wantonly. Her juices were saturating the bench she was strapped to. He was delighted Granger had noticed.

“Everything is charmed,” he said simply. “When instruments are put back on the shelving units or hooks, they clean magically. Any body fluids are absorbed by a magical _evenesco_ that is charmed into every surface, no matter where they land. Unless they land on your person, that is. We also employ a handful of house elves who disinfect the entire club during the day”  
  
She didn’t reply to him, but absorbed what he said with a slow nod, her eyes focused on something across the room before she started moving again. He followed, not saying a word. She paused for a very long time to watch two witches being flogged as they bent over the back of a couch. He didn’t miss the way she trailed the fingers of one hand up the opposite arm and across her shoulder and collar bones. He moved in for another strike. He stepped up behind her, close enough for her to feel the length of his body and his heat without actually touching her before he placed his lips a breath away from her ear.

“You’re interested in this the most, I think, Miss Granger. The slow build. The excitement. Watch how the blonde’s hips are rolling. She’s incredibly turned on, don’t you think? Do you see how wet her pussy is?” His mouth curled into a smile when she let out a shuddering breath, leaning back until she was even closer to him. Her arms crossed her torso, cupping her breasts from beneath. He watched with approval as her thumbs brushed her arms, giving herself some stimulation. “I am an excellent flogger, Miss Granger. I was serious before when I told you I wished to see more of your beautiful skin. Consent to a scene with me.”

They fell into a silence, but Lucius was not concerned. Her breathing had become slow and deep and she did not move away from him. Their bodies were so close to touching he could feel the heat radiating off her. His prick hardened more. Finally…finally, he saw her nod. One short, jerky motion.

His heart leapt and he brought his lips close to her ear again. “That was a yes? You had better tell me properly. Use your words like a good girl.”

“Yes, sir,” she murmured. He could feel her tremble, it did wonderful things for him.

“Follow me.” He rumbled before moving away from her and striding through the dungeon gathering space with a purpose. He grabbed a flogger as he walked past one rack, a pair of leather cuffs as he strode past another. He heard her gasp of surprise when he picked up a length of rope and a blindfold from another shelving unit. He didn’t turn to look at her. He would make sure she was comfortable with his plans before he trussed her up.

He reached the hall with private rooms and made for one he knew held a leather bench and a nice sized davenport, grateful to see it wasn’t in use. He ushered her in before closing and sealing the door behind him, effectively letting anyone who would come looking that the room was occupied. He dropped his supplies on the small table by the door before turning to stare at the Gryffindor girl intently.

“Take this,” he said after a moment and reached into a small cupboard that was positioned above the table. It was a small blue vial.

“What is it?” she asked curiously, watching as he pulled out an identical vial and threw it back quickly before tossing it into a small trash can.

“Sober up.” He said. “Never drink and scene. It inhibits senses and can be dangerous.”

“Oh!” She was surprised. She popped the cork and drank quickly. A few minutes later, her mind was dangerously clear. She had been a bit more intoxicated then she had realized. No, she hadn’t really touched that second glass of wine, but she had drunk a few glasses of wine earlier in the evening with her friends. She turned startled eyes to Lucius.

“Ah,” he smiled softly. “I wondered if you were a bit buzzed. Do you still wish to have a scene?”

She thought about that as he removed the vial from her hand and deposited it in the garbage. She was more nervous now, but she hadn’t changed her mind. “Yes, sir, I do.” It was a firm answer.

His grin smoothed into a serious expression and he slowly started stalking forward. He watched her eyes widen, relished the slight touch of uncertainty in them as he backed her into a corner, his hands coming up to splay on the wall on either side of her head. He pushed himself closer to her, his lips stopping centimeters from hers. She let out a low gasp that made his erection stiffen further.

“Your safewords?” he asked, needing to get the formalities underway.

“Yellow and red, sir.”

“Slow and stop?”

“Yes, sir.” She raised her lips, trying to meet his, he backed away, smirking. She wanted a kiss, did she?

“You saw the items I chose?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do any breech your limits?”

“No, sir. Not that I am aware of, anyhow.”

“I had not initially planned to scene tonight, or I would not have had the glass of whiskey.”

“I didn’t really think about the alcohol, I’m grateful you brought it up, sir.”

“In the future, if you plan to play you shouldn’t drink. If you don’t plan to play and things change, just ask for a sober up. They’re kept in the cabinets in the private rooms. Bartenders and security guards always have some on their person. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I realize you’re very new at this, so we will work together. I swear to you, I am not here to scare you away.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He brushed his nose against hers and her eyelids fluttered. “Now. I find your mouth utterly captivating, and I wish to kiss you.” She groaned softly and he took that as the affirmation he needed. He kissed her then, dropping his hands to her hips and pulling them into his. His cock digging into her soft belly. She met his lips with an enthusiasm he wouldn’t have thought possible for such a tightly wound individual.

He kept the kiss fairly chaste, a bit of open mouth, but no tongue. He lifted one hand to tangle in her mass of curls, yanking her head back forcefully exposing her neck. Her whimper of approval shot through him, setting the blood rushing in his veins into overdrive. He sunk his teeth into her creamy skin and elicited another gasp, her fingers shot up to entwine in his shirt, her nails biting into the skin of his chest. He spun and pushed her away from him.

“Strip.” He commanded. He had expected her to be shy, she was not. The corset came off immediately, revealing breasts that were so perfectly beautiful that Aphrodite herself would have shed tears. It dropped unceremoniously to the ground. She toed off her slippers before hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her skin-tight pants and dragging them over her hips, revealing a pair of lace knickers in Slytherin green. He clenched his teeth to keep in visceral snarl of approval. Holy Gods, her body was beautiful. She kicked her pants away and was about to return to remove her knickers when he stopped her with a shake of his head.

“Undress me,” he commanded. She appeared shocked for a split second before a triumphant look crossed her face and she closed the few feet in between them. Her tiny hands immediately went to the top button of his shirt, working them quickly before smoothing it off his shoulders to drop to the floor. He marveled at her bravery. She hadn’t hesitated with a single one of his questions or commands. He knew he was an intimidating man, he knew their history most likely made her trust in him shaky at best. She was astounding him more and more as the minutes passed. His belt was now on the floor and she squatted to help him step out of his shoes, also removing his socks.

She stood, her hands coming back to the placket of his trousers, but his hands covered hers. “Not yet, Doll.” He directed.

She stopped immediately, her hands dropping. She raised her eyes to his. “Yes, sir.” She stated properly. If it wasn’t for the glittering of her lovely caramel eyes and the way her body was trembling, he would have thought her indifferent to the whole situation. He felt momentarily confused at her quick acceptance of his directive. It was good…very good.

“Go to the bench and bend over it. Put your hands behind your back.”

Her watched her pupils blow wide with desire and almost groaned aloud. _Fucking hell._ It was all that he could think as she followed his orders perfectly.

She was high on her tip toes in order to bend over the bench, so he flicked his wand at it to adjust the height so her feet were flat on the floor. “Thank you, sir,” she murmured shyly, he could see a small smile curve her face. He came up on her left and pulled her hair to one side.

“I wish to be able to see your face, Doll.” He explained. Then he summoned the leather cuffs and ropes which soared through the air and landed in his palms with a slight _thwack_. Quickly, he cuffed her wrists together at the small of her back. Then he knelt behind her. “Spread your legs, wide as you can. I wish to see that pussy wide open.”

 _Oh my God._ Hermione felt another wave of heat wash over her face. She would never understand why the embarrassment and humiliation turned her on so much. She compared her feelings and reactions last night. She was aroused, most definitely. Her connection with Lucius was lovely. She was excited and anticipatory, but some of the intensity she had shared with Snape the night before was missing. _I wondered why that is?_  
  
Pushing her thoughts aside, she did as he asked and gasped aloud when she felt him roll her panties down and off her feet before tying her ankles to the outside of the bench’s legs. Then he was standing next her, coiling the rope around her lower back, securing her to the bench. She couldn’t move. Her heart was trying to escape from her ribcage, she knew her knickers must have been absolutely drenched when he removed them. _Oh, my God._ It seemed to be the only thought in her head.

“Tell me how you’re doing, Doll.” His voice was a soft command, rough with desire.  
  
_Oh, Gods, this is so bloody hot._ “Excited, sir.” She answered him with full honesty, letting out a whimper when he smoothed his hands over her backside and down the backs of her thighs.

“You look marvelous all tied up like this.” Her told her. “I was planning on using the blindfold, but I think I’d prefer to see your eyes. Does this please you?”

“Whatever pleases you, pleases me, sir.” There was a moment of heavy silence and Hermione attempted to look at him, wondering if she had said it wrong.

He was astounded at her response. _Was she like this for Snape last night? How in Merlin’s name did he turn this down a second time?_ _Why had he declined to introduce her around?_

Lucius knew if she continued like this, he’d be begging her to train under him. She was exquisite. “I very much liked that answer, Miss Granger.” His voice was even thicker than moments before and heavy with pleasure, she glowed with pride.

“Thank you, sir,” she whispered.

“I will begin.”

“Yes, sir.” She took a deep steadying breath and felt her eyes flutter shut. Blood was still racing euphorically through her body.

The first hit of the flogger was feather light, but drew a gasp of surprise from her anyway. It tapped her bum on the left, then the right, then worked its way down one thigh and up the other. She hummed her approval in the back of her throat. So far, so very, very good.

Lucius watched her through heavy lidded eyes, relishing every twitch and gasp he pulled from her delectable body. _Gods, she’s stunning, and so in control. Let’s see if she can maintain it._ The next blow hit harder, the low moan that ripped from her as the next blow hit just as hard went straight to his groin. His respirations sped and he settled into a familiar routine.

He hadn’t lied when he had told her he was good at flogging. He was actually sought out for his flogging technique by witches and wizards alike. It was an empowering skill. He continued to work her silently for a time, raising the intensity bit by bit until he felt he was striking her at about a six out of ten. She was starting to sound like a back-alley whore, and he was so hard he was afraid his erection was going to break off in his trousers. He stifled a snort of amusement. _I wonder if she’ll let me fuck her? Most likely not._

She was tied so tightly to the bench, she could barely move. She was definitely unable to roll her hips or seek any kind of friction for the ache between her thighs. Her nipples were like small stones pressed into the leather bench. There was no relief for those, either. She felt it when he upped the intensity another notch, bringing her numb bum and thighs back to life with the change of pace. She cried out softly, a small sob escaping, feeling tears form at the corner of her eyes. This was seriously intense. While it was a very different intensity then she’d had with Snape, it was still powerfully overwhelming – in a good way. The feelings were unlike any she had ever had before. Primitive noises escaped her without her permission, her upper back arched. She was becoming absolutely desperate, and when the force of the blows upped again, she cried out.

“Oh, Gods!” She panted. “Please, sir!” She wasn’t sure what she was begging for.

He let out a low chuckle, but did not speak. They had been silent up until then, other than his grunts of exertion and her soft gasps and moans.

The strikes of the flogger started to concentrate of the fleshy swell of her behind, switching back and forth between the two as he kicked up the power behind them even more. She felt a sob strangle through a lump in her throat, but was nowhere near using either of her safewords. She needed this, wanted it. It was exhilarating. Then, the damn broke, the tears coming without pause. They slipped onto the bench, pooled in the corner of the eye facing up before they slid down, off the tip of her nose.

He noticed the change immediately and relished in her full submission. Giving herself over to tears for him was a sweet reward, but he didn’t want to push her over the edge. He had no idea how close (if she was close at all) she might be to using either of her safewords, so he started backing off. Decreasing the force of his blows after every six strikes. Her breathing finally slowed and evened out when he was at about a five, he watched the tension in her face drain away. The tears had stopped, she looked drugged.

He began to put more and more seconds and less and less intensity between each hit. Then, without warning, he reangled the flogger to gently flop across her sex. Her moan came out low and long. He started talking, keeping his voice low and husky. “I will bring you to climax like this, Miss Granger,” he told her calmly. She groaned again as the hits stayed gentle, but started to come at a quicker pace.

Hermione’s mind was whirring, but she could grasp no coherent thoughts. She was beyond turned on. Her bum and thighs were on fire, there was no way she would be able to sit for at least a week. She found that she didn’t care. She just wanted him to keep doing that…oh, gods. Her climax was swelling quickly, to be honest she had been close to the edge for quite a while. Another stroke and she gasped and tried to writhe.

“Please, sir!” It was a request, an admission. She was begging, pleading. “I’m so close, sir!”

“What do you need?” His voice was strained with his arousal and she panted as he struck again and again and again.

“Ooooh, Merlin,” she whispered. Her voice was soft, her breath still coming in short pants. “Oh, Gods. I don’t know…” The words came out on a groan.

“What do you need, Miss Granger!” It was a demand this time.

“I need to please you, sir!” She almost shouted it, she was standing at the edge of her orgasm, teetering at the top.

There was a stutter in his actions. “Fuck!” She heard him mutter, and absently wondered if she had said something wrong, before the flogger struck her clit again. She keened, feeling empty, but alive.

“It would please me to know what you _need_ , Miss Granger.” _Where the hell did she learn all this? She’s disarmed me multiple times tonight. It’s like she’s subbed for years!_

“I need you to fuck me, sir!” It was ripped from her lips without her permission, and she felt her entire body flush with embarrassment at her lustful display. She froze, her heart skipping in her chest as a stream of expletives fell from his lips. She heard the clatter of the flogger hitting the ground, then a zipper and a guttural groan of relief only moments before he was slamming himself into her from behind. She climaxed immediately, her body chaffing at the bindings that held her in place with the force of her jerk of surprise.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” She cried out, desperate to move back against him as he pounded through her orgasm. “Oh, Gods sir. Yes, yes, yes!” She was almost sobbing again.

“Good girl.” She barely heard him whisper over the sound of blood rushing in her ears. She was dizzy with her high, when she felt her hands come loose, she was confused before she realized he’d released her magically. He pulled out of her and she protested the loss with a vehement snarl.

He scooped her off the bench with a chortle that sent a fresh wave of excitement through her quim. The next thing she knew, he was picking her up by the bum and slamming her against the nearest wall. Her head knocked hard and a gasp of surprised pain left her lips and then she was beyond caring as he thrust himself back into her. “I want to watch you while I fuck you,” he ground out through gritted teeth. They were almost eye to eye, he had her just a little higher than him.

“Yes!” she gasped, angling her hips to receive him fully. By the Gods, he was well endowed. She could feel every thick inch of him as he rammed into her savagely. She gasped and grunted, feeling her arousal go from zero to ninety in two point two seconds. “Oh, sir. Fuck, yes!”

“You are delicious, Doll. Absolutely perfect.”

“Uhhhnngg!” Was all she could manage; her head fell back against the wall. He took the opportunity to ravage her throat and collar bones, nipping and sucking. Her back arched even harder. “Oh, Merlin!” she cried out. “I’m going to come again! May I come again?” Her exclamation was urgent and her request was stimulating, his hips whipped faster against her, knocking her bum hard against the wall. She didn’t even notice the pain of her tender backside hitting the cool plaster.

“You had better come again, Miss Granger. Shite, your pussy is so hot I feel like I’m fucking a volcano. Come. Now.”

She wasn’t sure how they did that. Snape had done the same thing. Apparently rough movements and deep voices demanding she come did it for her, because after a few more strokes she did just that, exploding around him, shouting his praises in a raspy voice, her vocal chords shredded with her screaming vocalizations. She would be surprised if she didn’t leave gouges on his shoulders where her nails bit into his skin.

“Such a good girl,” he ground out as he felt her body go slack against him. She would be his death. This could not be a onetime experience for him. He wanted her again as soon as he recovered. He slipped out of her and carefully set her to the floor, she watched in fascination as his hand came down to grip his more than adequately sized cock and he started to pump himself. Her eyes went wide – she had never watched a man masturbate before. His cock was beautiful and thick, not as long as she had thought…but the girth must have made up for that. The head was purple, the veins standing out. He was obviously very hard, it looked painful.

“On your knees, Miss Granger. I’m going to come all over those perfect breasts of yours.” She made some sort of surprised sound of agreement before quickly sinking to her knees. Her legs were trembling violently. “Put your hands behind your head, push your tits out.” She did as he directed, watching him wank with hungry eyes. His other hand came down to cup his balls and she moaned at how turned on this made her. Gods, she could so come again. How in the world was she ready to start all over? He let out a grunt that pulled her eyes up to him and her breath caught. He was watching her with an intensity that stole her air, his face contorted with that delectable look of pained pleasure. Then his head dropped back as a visceral snarl left his chest and a stream of thick, white come hit her chin. It was hot and smelled of sex and heat and man and she moaned as the next string hit her right breast, dousing her pebbled nipple.

“Suck me. Use only your mouth, no hands,” he ordered harshly and she didn’t think twice, leaning forward to clean his cock with her tongue and lips with morbid enthusiasm. His hands sunk into her hair, gently holding her in place while she lapped at his rapidly softening erection. She kept her hands behind her neck. After a couple of minutes, he grasped her under her arms and pulled her up roughly, his own ejaculation smearing between their bodies as his lips crashed down on hers.

She welcomed the intimate kiss, opening her mouth wide to taste him when he demanded entrance with his tongue. He scooped her up into his arms again and moved to sit them both on the couch, never letting her mouth go. He settled her knees on the outside of each of his thighs so she was straddling him and hummed as she wound her arms around his neck, her fingers gently playing with his hair, pressing her breasts into his chest. He kept one arm wrapped around her back, but moved the other to grasp the side of her face, slowly, languidly ending their kiss as he brushed a cheek bone with the pad of his thumb.

Their eyes met and locked, both panting with their efforts. They remained wrapped in each other’s arms. “You are…an exquisite surprise, Miss Granger.” He finally said after an intense few moments of eyes contact. He loved that she blushed, her cheeks going dark pink.

“May I take that to mean you are pleased, sir?” He searched her face, finding no sign that she was fishing for compliments. Her question was sincere, she wanted his honesty.

“More than pleased, Doll. You far outstripped my expectations.” She ducked her head, obviously delighted with his words. Her bottom lip disappeared into her mouth and he growled, using his nose to nuzzle her face back up before removing her offending teeth with his own, nibbling the pouty piece of glistening skin. She let out a soft sigh, sinking deeper into his embrace and opening for his skilled attack on her mouth. He left her mouth to trail a line of kisses across her jaw to her ear, taking the delicate lobe between his teeth to suck and caress with his tongue. Another delicious sigh left her.

 _Oh, this is nice._ It was nice, but her mind drifted to another set of lips and teeth, ones that left a trail of blazing fire in their wake. She needed to find that feeling again. While this had been incredible, that had been so much more.

Unaware to her internal musing, Lucius was struggling with a thought, himself. He hadn’t done this in many, many years. “Miss Granger, are you looking for a Dominant?”

The question caught her by surprise and she straightened, putting a little space between their bodies. “I am sir, do you know of any who may be looking to train a new Submissive?”

“I do,” he said, his voice was carefully guarded and she cocked her head to the side, watching him curiously. “Me.”

Her mouth popped open in surprise and he sidetracked her by moving in for another kiss. She granted him access, but he sensed her distraction and pulled back after only a few short seconds.

“I have surprised you.” It was a statement.

“Yes, sir,” she admitted with wide eyes that dropped as she felt his cock twitch. It appeared he was growing hard again. Her mouth went dry as her arousal returned. _You just bloody came twice, you are not horny again!_ She chided herself internally.

“Please tell me what you’re thinking.”

She took a deep breath and answered him honestly. Damn, she wasn’t used to all this intimate candor, but found it refreshing. “This was unbelievably incredible,” she said softly, unable to meet his gaze. “I have to be honest in telling you I have not received many orgasms from my partners over the years.”

“How many is not many?”

Her cheeks pinked again and he smoothed the blush with his fingers. Her skin was incredibly soft. “Three happened last night, two tonight, giving me a total of eight.” His fingers froze and his jaw dropped unbecomingly.

“Tell me that’s not true.”

She snorted. “The look on Master Snape’s face was quite similar to yours, sir. I could almost hear him calling my past partners dunderheads.” She gave a quiet chortle that seemed to have gone straight to his cock – she felt it swell even more against her low belly. This just made her excited again.

“Anyway, sir,” she dropped her eyes again. She was worried about hurting his feelings. This was Lucius Malfoy, though, yes? Ego to spare, right? “I’m hesitant to pick a Dominant just yet. My two scenes have been incredible, but I wish to experience a bit more.”

“If Snape were willing to train you, what would you say to him?” Lucius had a feeling he knew the answer, he had seen it in her eyes. _I knew something happened. He was way too crabby tonight. Even for him._

“I wish to decline to answer that, sir.”

“Miss Granger.” A note of amused warning rang out. She sighed.

“It was…very intense, sir. I don’t know how to describe it. It was like nothing like…anything.”

He nodded, a slow smirk crossing his face.

“I see.”

“I am sorry, sir. Can I think about your offer?”

“Of course you can, Miss Granger. I would be honored to train you if you so choose.” His words were sincere and he felt a warmth in his chest when she smiled at him, her eyes sparkling.

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome Miss Granger.” He dropped another light kiss to her lips before patting her bum lightly. “Let’s get dressed and I’ll give you the upper floor tour.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To see photos that inspired the corset in this chapter, find us on FB or Tumblr:
> 
> Facebook: www.facebook.com/snowand.lissa.7
> 
> Tumblr: LissaDream AND SnowBlind12


	6. Chapter Six

* * *

   **Chapter Six**

* * *

“What did you do?” Snape’s voice sounded tense when Lucius walked into his office a few hours later.

“Well, hello to you, too, you bastard! I’ve had a very pleasant evening.” Lucius quirked a sarcastic brow at his friend. “How has yours been?”

The snark took Snape back just a step and he looked up from the paperwork he was reading. “That’s not what I bloody well meant, and you know it.” He wasn’t going to pussy-foot around with this man he’d known since he was eleven. “What did you do with her?”

“Why?” Lucius crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to look smug. “Regretting your choice of _not_ showing her around tonight?”

Silence.

“That was quite the shocker for me, to find the Gryffindor Princess on my arm.”

He watched Snape’s lips curl and eyes darken briefly before he returned to his desk work. “Fuck off, Malfoy,” he growled. “I have work to do.”

“Your idea of work at this time of night is usually to have some little witch bound up with a bright red arse.” Oh, he was having too much fun. Severus Snape had made a connection with a potential submissive – and it was one of his arch nemesis from the good old days. He snorted. The man had to be completely put off.

“Are you going to answer my God-damned question, Malfoy?” he snarled. “Or are you going to go away?”

“I did a scene with her.” He stopped there, waiting for a reaction. He got one. Black eyes snapped to grey. Then, the black went dull as Occlumency shields rose like the hackles of a rabid dog. Once Snape’s face was wiped smooth of emotion, he responded.

“How was she? What was the scene?”

“I tied her to a bench, cuffed her, flogged her…” Snape’s expression didn’t change. He hadn’t expected it to. “…and fucked her. She was beyond incredible.”

The ex-Potions professor froze. “You fucked her?” His tone was deadly quiet. “You fucked Hermione Granger? A Muggle-born? A girl young enough to be your daughter?”

“Don’t be a hypocritical asshole, Snape.” Lucius rolled his eyes. “I’ve fucked Muggle-borns before. I’ve fucked women younger than Granger. You know this. You’re the same bloody age as me! You fuck younger women all the time! What’s really the issue here? Pissed you didn’t fuck her first?”

“I never fuck a sub during my first scene with her, and you bloody well know that.” It didn’t escape Lucius’ attention that Snape’s fist was curled tightly around his quill. His friend was also avoiding his gaze.

“Lucky for me, I don’t have those same scruples. It’s certainly hard to turn a witch like that down. She literally begged me for it.” He was purposely provoking Snape. He knew it, too. This was absolutely hysterical.

“What exactly happened?”

“Why are you so curious? You never interrogate me about my scenes.”

“Come off it, Malfoy. She’s going to be a big fucking deal. I need to be prepared. We’re probably going to need to hire some extra security once members are aware she’s coming here. Word will get out to the extended community and we’re probably looking at our business doubling!”

“Ah. So, you’re going to use business as an excuse for your curiosity.” It was a dangerous statement; Snape was well aware that he was being goaded. It was not something he was apt to take kindly to, either.

“What other reason would there be?” Snape’s voice was starting to carry a dangerous edge. It screamed that he wanted Lucius to back off.

“I’m guessing it has to do with the fact that she was just shy of perfect. Probably the best new submissive I’ve ever been with. No, that’s not right. _Definitely_ the best new submissive I’ve ever been with. And you…you had her first. You know how good she was – but you didn’t show her around tonight. That’s certainly not like you. If she had been anyone but Hermione Granger, you would have given her a tour and then fucked her brains out against a wall, you know? Like _I_ did? I know you, Snape. You’re fucking hiding something here.”

Snape’s shoulders tensed and he glared up at his silky-tongued friend. “You know nothing.”

“I know that I offered to be her Dom for training tonight.”

“You did _what_?” The shock was palpable. Lucius didn’t blame the man, he hadn’t trained a submissive since before the second war.

“Merlin’s balls, Snape. Did you not have the same experience I had? She didn’t make a single mistake with me. Do you know what she told me when I asked her what she needed to orgasm?” Snape didn’t reply, diligently staring at the paperwork in front of him. After a beat, Lucius continued. “She said - and I quote - ‘I need to please you, sir!’ I mean…?” He trailed off with a raised eyebrow, lifting a palm as if to say, _Holy shit, right?_

Snape swore softly, and Lucius noted a rise in color in the man’s pale cheeks.

“Snape…she was _exquisite_.” He smirked. There was another lapse in conversation.

“What did she say to you, when you offered to train her?” Lucius did not miss his reluctance to share eye contact. He watched as Snape continued to write in his ledger, occasionally glancing at the entrance monitor.

“She asked if she could think about it.”

“Why’s that?” There was a touch of arrogance in Snape’s tone now. Hermione, after all, had all but asked him to be her Dom.

“Because she wants to experience more…or so she says.” Silence. “I asked her about you.”

“Oh?” Snape’s attention was peeked and Lucius smiled maliciously. Christ. It was true that if you did not know Snape, you would think he was completely uninterested. However, he had known Snape for thirty-five years and could read him like a book.

“You certainly got under her skin.”

There was a flash of something in Snape’s dark eyes, but then it was gone. “How’s that?”

“I asked her what she would have said if you had offered to Dom for her.”

Snape’s heart picked up speed, and it took more control then he’d like to admit to smother his excitement away. “And what…did…she…say?” he inquired, using his broken speech pattern of intimidation.

“She said something along the lines of your session with her being nothing like anything she’s ever experienced. I don’t think she’d say no to you, Snape.”

“Good thing I have no intention of asking her, then. Wouldn’t you say?” His upper lip lifted in a snarl. “I don’t train subs. You know that as well as anyone here.”

“There’s always a first, Snape.” Lucius gave his partner a slow grin. “There’s always a first.”

“Ah,” his friend muttered, a leer crossing his face as he put down his quill. “Miss Britt just came through.” He was watching the monitor in his office that showed the entrance. Lucius glanced up and watched the silky auburn-haired witch as she checked her cloak and bag. “Just the witch I’ve been waiting for.” He pushed to stand. “If you’ll excuse me, Malfoy?”

For a moment, Lucius was startled at the abrupt end to their conversation. He inclined his head as they dismissed each other, but grinned slowly as he watched the raven-haired man walk away. Snape was avoiding the discussion, and Britt was in for one hell of a scene tonight.

* * *

Oh, hell. It had been a busy week. Hermione groaned and arched her back, stretching her arms up into the air above her while pointing her toes as far away from her as she could in a full-body stretch. _Gah_ , she was sore. Sitting at a desk all day could do that to you, though.

“Marla, what time is it?” she called out. There was no answer. She glanced out the window and was started to see a pitch-black sky. She stood and walked into the waiting room of her office. She was at her firm in Muggle London today. Marla, her secretary, was an older, Muggle-born witch that she had hired two years ago when she had decided to start her own practice. There was a note tacked to the computer screen on her office assistance’s desk.

**_Hermione, I told you three times I was leaving. You were in so deep, I’m absolutely positive you didn’t hear me. GO HOME. I’ll see you tomorrow. ~Marla_ **

“Uhhh!” Hermione groaned when she looked at the large wall clock. It was almost eleven at night! No wonder she was starving. She was rubbing her tired eyes when the flames in her office fireplace went green.

“’Mione?” It was Harry.

“Yeah, Harry, I’m here.” She quickly stepped back into her private room.

“Merlin, Hermione. What the hell are you doing at work so late? I’ve been trying your floo at home every half hour since six. You okay?”

“Yeah.” She smiled at her best friend. “I’m great, actually. Just lost track of time.”

“You work too hard, Hermione,” Harry responded with a sad smile.

“You’ve told me that before, Harry.”

His smile broadened. “What’re you doing tomorrow night? We’re going out for dinner. Neville and Hannah are planning to join us. Ron and Luna, too.”

 _Great…the seventh wheel this time._ She just stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “No, Harry. I’m so bushed after this week. I think I’m just going to stay in. Maybe I’ll read for pleasure and take a hot bath.” That actually sounded wonderful to her, but in reality, she had very, very different ambitions for the next night.

Harry’s face dropped. “We miss you, Hermione.”

“I know,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. It’s just been…so hard lately. I feel like we live in different worlds.”

“What do you mean by that?” He sounded slightly affronted.

“It’s hard to always be the extra wheel, Harry,” she turned her face slightly, so it would be harder to read her expression.

“Maybe you would meet someone if you didn’t work all the time.”

“Harry!” She was sick of this conversation. All her friends had watched her fail at relationship after relationship. Why couldn’t they just give it a rest? It would happen when it happened. It took her too long to realize she couldn’t force it, and it was taking her friends even longer.

“Listen. I just can’t. I suck at relationships. I’ve never found anyone who…who is happy with me just as I am.”

“I’m coming through.” It wasn’t a question and then, a second later, Harry was wrapping her in his arms. “Why do you feel like that?”

She felt like she was going to cry, actually. That’s how she felt. “Well, I haven’t had any bloody luck, have I?” She laughed through her tears. “I think I need to stop dating Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, Harry.”

“Okay,” he snorted. “We’ll find you a nice Hufflepuff.” He rubbed her back as he squeezed her tight and she melted into him like warm butter. God, she loved him – he always knew what to say to make her feel better.

“No Slytherins?” Hermione joked, wrapping her arms snugly around his middle. He dropped his cheek to her hair.  
  
There was a slight pause. “Are you trying to tell me something?”  
  
She pulled back and a grinned up at him. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s not gone anywhere yet, I’ll let you know if it does.”  
  
There was another long pause, where this man who was like her brother watched her carefully. Then he sighed. “We just want to see you happy, ‘Mione.”

“I know, Harry. I just want to be happy, too.”

* * *

“Poppet!”

“Do you work all the time, Johnathan?” Hermione grinned as she settled herself at the bar and ordered a Coke. She was certainly hoping to play tonight, no alcohol for her!

“Feels like it sometimes, but according to the papers, you know what that’s like, Miss Hot Shot. Congrats on your case from yesterday!”

“Thanks!” She was flattered. “So…tell me. What should I do tonight?”

“You should let me get Rose and Etan for you. Rose was so excited you were going to be here tonight, and got a little carried away. Etan had to take her away to be corrected.” He winked at her and Hermione took that as a cue that it was okay to giggle. That it wasn’t a serious punishment.

“Is Master Lucius here, tonight?”

“Not that I’ve seen, yet. Did you two have fun last weekend?”

She felt her cheeks burn hot at his question. Oh, well. Of course Johnathan knew what happened around here. She nodded. “It was incredible.”

“You knew him from before, right? Didn’t you graduate with Draco?”

She froze for a second. _Good, God_. Why had Draco never crossed her mind? “How do you know Draco?” she asked softly.

“Oh, he’s around here somewhere, tonight.” Jonathan, missing her concern, scanned the room as he started wiping down the bar. Hermione followed his gaze nervously. The bar was not super busy yet. Most patrons were tucked in booths for privacy. “Probably downstairs.”

She felt the color drain from her face.

Jonathan tossed the cloth he was using to wipe the bar aside, noticing her reaction. “Oh, hell. What’s wrong?” he whispered, eyes large with concern.

“It’s just…” _Merlin’s pants, I fucked Draco Malfoy’s father and now I’m going to have to look him in the eye._ “Draco and I didn’t get along very well.”

Jonathan snorted. “I don’t suppose you did. He’s an arrogant little asshole, isn’t he?”

Her lips twitched. She liked Jonathan, a lot. “Ah, here’s Etan.” Turning in her stool, she looked to see as Jonathan raised his arm and caught the handsome man’s attention. There was an excited squeal and a sigh of exasperation. Next thing she knew, she was being pulled out of her bar stool into the arms of the brunette who had introduced Hermione to her new obsession.

“I am so excited you came!” Rose exclaimed and Hermione hugged her awkwardly, taken aback by her familiarity. The shining jubilation in Rose’s eyes helped Hermione relax, though. Sincerity was evident.

“Rose.” It was an exasperated sound mixed with deep affection, and Hermione watched as Rose’s cheeks filled with color before she let Hermione go. Her eyes dropped to the floor as Etan continued speaking. “We discussed your excitement less than five minutes ago. We need to be calm with our guest, tonight. She’s new, and Master Snape already told us she would be a VIP that he expected us to take care of.”

Hermione’s heart leapt into her throat. Snape had said that?

“I’m sorry, Master,” Rose whispered. Hermione watched her carefully, keeping her mouth shut. She definitely knew better than to get between a Dom and his sub. Hermione was flattered Rose was so excited, and to be honest her, enthusiasm was contagious. Hermione didn’t mind the familiarity at all, she strangely felt the same way.

“Go to your corner while I talk to our guest. I’ll retrieve you shortly.”

Hermione’s eyes popped wide as she watched Rose’s gaze fly to her Master’s. Her cheeks went bubble gum pink before she gave a quick nod and headed for the plus-signed shape pillar. She put her nose in one of the corners, and Hermione tilted her head in contemplation. She had wondered about the position and shape of that pillar, but hadn’t asked about it last time. Now she understood; it was in the center of everything. Rose’s punishment would be very publicly humiliating.

“Would you sit with me at a booth, Miss?” Master Etan asked quietly. He gestured to a leather padded booth that put them in direct sight of his submissive.

“Yes, sir.” Hermione said quietly. Jonathan gave her a small wave while serving another customer, and she gathered her drink before following Etan.

“I wish for you to be your everyday self for this conversation, not a submissive,” Master Etan said as they settled. His eyes were focused on Rose, and Hermione followed his stare. Rose was quite a beautiful witch. She had thick, multi-colored, brunette hair that was straight and loose and fell to her shoulders, and a smooth expanse of olive-toned skin. She was a bigger girl – voluptuous, curvy, and sexy were all adjectives that came to mind. Hermione felt like a stick when she compared herself to the other girl’s shape.

She had a lovely, round bum, which was definitely being shown off in a royal purple thong. She was wearing knee high black leather boots with a stiletto heel, and had towered over Hermione in them. This made her guess Rose was probably five-six, maybe five-seven without the heels. Her top – if you could call it a top – was a leather bralette garter that had straps that crisscrossed her ample cleavage and tied around her ribcage and neck. Around her neck was a beautiful, ring-linked, silver choker, studded with gems. _Probably her collar,_ Hermione mused.

She turned back to Master Etan, only to find him grinning at her. “Do you find my Rose attractive, Miss Granger?” He spoke her name very quietly. She really had to come up with a pseudonym for club members to use on the main floor. She would always be wearing her mask on this floor because it was important she maintained her anonymity. This section of the club was one that anyone off the streets could access with the right connections. Someone who hadn’t yet signed an NDA would have no obligation to keep her secret and her reputation would take a massive blow if the public found out about her new predilection for BDSM.

She felt heat rise to her cheeks slightly before giving him a coy smile. “She’s quite beautiful, Master Etan,” she responded.

“That she is.” She watched his eye soften as he looked at his sub. “She’s a good girl, too. Just a little excitable. She’s a big fan of yours. When she realized who you were that night at _Patronus_ , she couldn’t stop talking about it for a week. She was quite hopeful we would see you here. Last night was the first night in two weeks we’ve been here – we were on our honeymoon. When Master Snape briefed us on his expectations regarding you, she was flying high.”

Hermione gave him a brilliant smile. “Congratulations on your marriage! Rose seems very nice, I’m sure we’ll be good friends. Both of you are certainly the reason my life has taken this unexpected twist.” She hoped her voice wasn’t filled with too much longing. When she talked about marriage, it usually was. It was depressing how many years behind her friends she felt in the family department. _I wonder if marrying a Dominant would be a good thing or not, though?_

“I hear it’s a good twist, Miss Granger.” Master Etan placed his forearms on the table and sat forward, a conspiratorial smile crossing his lovely features. He was a handsome man, with a strong jawline, beautiful, sparkling blue eyes with thick lashes, and pronounced cheekbones.

“Oh? How’s that?” The curly-haired brunette took a sip of her drink before glancing around the bar again. The lookout for Draco Malfoy continued.

“Master Snape apprised us of your scenes last weekend. He was impressed, and asked me to help you find a Dom to train with. Are you agreeable to this?”

It took effort for Hermione’s face not to fall. He had been impressed, but not enough to consider training her himself. Not even enough to give her a damned tour himself. _Bastard_. Had the connection she felt been one sided? She sighed. “I am, Etan.”

“Tell me what you’re looking for. What type of Dom would you find attractive?”

“Looks aren’t a big concern for me, for the most part. I mean, I want him to have a pleasing face, of course. I’ll have to look at him enough. He doesn’t have to be a classically handsome man, though. I like tall, but I’m so short that’s never been too much of a problem. I’m attracted to men who are fit. I take meticulous care of myself and I appreciate that in a wizard. I’m not talking all ripped out or anything, just fit.” His eyebrow quirked.

“Okay. Personality traits?”

“Intelligent.”

Master Etan threw his head back and laughed at her blunt answer. “Anything else?”

“Well, of course I would like him to be interested in being a good teacher to me. Probably someone with experience training a submissive?” She shrugged. “I am an intelligent witch, sir. I wish to be able to carry on a conversation with the man I will be spending my free time with. This is why intelligence will always be my first answer when asked this question.”

He nodded his understanding. “Anything else?”

“Compatible. I want a connection.”

A raised eyebrow met that statement. “What are your end goals?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you wish to train and then stay single? What I mean by that is – do you just wish to play? Do you wish to be collared? Do you plan on being a full-time, twenty-four/seven submissive?  A sexual submissive…?”

Hermione took a moment to think about her answer to this question. “I’m looking for permanence. I want a real relationship – in and out of the bedroom. I cannot and will not be a twenty-four/seven submissive, but I definitely believe I wish to be a sexual submissive. I would not object to wearing a collar with the right contract. I would be willing to wear it in the privacy of my home and when we came here. I would also be willing to negotiate wearing it at other times to play.”

Master Etan sat back in the booth and studied her for a moment. He raised his hand to brush the short goatee on his chin thoughtfully. “Why did you not accept Master Lucius’ offer to train you?”

Hermione’s face froze with surprise. She hadn’t realized that would be talked about without her being present. It was her assumption something that private would be kept between her and Lucius. “Uh–.” Hermione broke herself off. “I um, well…”

“Miss Granger, just be honest. You do not have to worry about being judged by me.” His tone was very kind.

She took a deep breath and nodded. “My scene with Master Lucius was incredible, and I am keeping his offer on the table. I wish to experience more with a few more potential Doms before I make a final decision.”

“If you had an incredible connection with Master Lucius, why would you wish to look further?”

How was she supposed to answer that? _My connection with Lucius was lovely, but Snape literally made me feel like I had walked into an inferno?_ The last thing she needed to do was go around sounding like some love-sick school girl. Snape didn’t want to train her? Fine. It’s not like she was going to shout to the roof tops that she had never experienced that kind of intensity before, and didn’t want to settle for anything less. She supposed she could just train with anyone, and then pursue him at a later date? Maybe she _should_ just take Lucius up on his offer. _Except…well, except there’s Draco to contend with now_. How the hell would he respond to her being his father’s submissive? She shuddered at the thought. More to think about. Her head was starting to feel over-full.

Shaking her head, Hermione murmured, “What I tell you stays between you and I?” It was a combination of a request and a question.

He studied her for a moment. “Alright,” he said slowly.

“You will not share it with Master Snape or Master Lucius?”

“I will not.”

She took a deep breath. “My experience with Master Lucius was lovely. Incredibly lovely. My experience with Master Snape was electrifying. I want electrifying. Therefore, I wish to experience a bit more before I choose someone to train me.”

Etan’s lips parted with a startled surprise before he quickly regained his composure. “You had…” He trailed off, shook his head, and then redirected his train of thought. “Okay. I have a couple of Dom’s I’d like to introduce you to. One is here tonight.”

“If it’s Draco Malfoy, my answer is ‘no way in hell.’”

A loud laugh left Etan, his head falling back with his mirth. “I think that’s one of the best things I’ve heard in a while,” he said when he calmed, wiping moisture from the corner of one eye. Hermione’s cheeks were red. She was a bit confused with his laughter. “Forgive me, Hermione. May I call you Hermione?”

“I would prefer you call me Miss on this floor. On the other floors, I’m perfectly fine with you using my first name.”

He paused, then nodded. “Agreed. Forgive me, Miss. I did not mean to make you think I was laughing at you. Draco prefers to be a bottom, although he’s been known to be a Switch.”

“Oh. He does both?” She was trying to wrap her head around what she had just been told. “Wait a second. Did you say Draco Malfoy prefers to be a sub?”

Etan gave her a smirk. “Yes. He’s an excellent male submissive.”

Hermione was floored. “But he’s a Switch?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. I’m having trouble thinking of the boy I knew being a submissive.”

“I can appreciate your reluctance to believe it. You must remember, though, people come here so they can be their true selves.” His voice held a subtle warning, and Hermione realized she had crossed a line. She was being judgmental and there was no room for judgement in this world. “You might find that he has a hard time believing you are a submissive, as well.” Etan smiled, softening the blow.

Hermione felt properly chastened. Her cheeks had to be pink with embarrassment. “However – to answer your question – no. I was not talking about Draco. There is a new Dom, his name is Michael, and he’s interested in training a sub. He is from the scene in Hillingdon; he just recently moved into the city. I know you said you would prefer someone with experience, but he comes highly recommended from a friend of mine who trained him.”

“I would be willing to meet him.” Hermione’s  heart rate climbed. Gods, this was insane. She was going to meet a complete stranger with the hopes of him training her to be a sexual submissive.

“Wonderful. We’ll head downstairs shortly. I am going to retrieve my English Rose. Excuse me for a moment.” She nodded at him with a kind smile and watched as he crossed the room to his Rose. He took her chin in his fingers and turned her face towards him. Her cheeks were still very pink and Hermione could see from where she sat that her eyes were wet. She was embarrassed for the girl, but her Master was being very sweet with her. Hermione observed as he cupped Rose’s face in both hands and smoothed her tears away with his thumbs. He was talking to her low and the look on his face made Hermione thoroughly believe he was in love with his submissive. Apparently, his wife? The pretty brunette nodded and finally looked up into his eyes, giving him a tiny smile. He pressed a kiss to the dip between her eyes. Hermione looked away, feeling like she was interrupting a very private moment.

She looked up only when Etan and Rose returned to the table. Rose seemed to have herself in control now, and smiled shyly at Hermione. It was then Hermione realized that the girl was quite young. If she was twenty, Hermione would be surprised. Etan looked to be slightly older than Hermione. Probably about thirty.

Hermione returned Rose’s smile with one of her own as Etan slid back into the booth and gestured for Rose to sit on his lap. “Rose has a question for you, Miss.” Etan said with a smirk.

“Oh?” Hermione turned to the girl, locking her eyes with Rose’s pretty grey-blues.

“I was wondering if you’d like to play?” Rose said softly.

Hermione’s mouth went dry and her cheeks heated once again when Etan gave a low chuckle. She seemed to have forgotten how to speak. “It appears you’ve startled her, my English Rose. Tell her what you mean.”

“I enjoy being with other women as much as I enjoy being with men, Miss.” Rose’s eyes were sparkling with the same excitement from earlier. “I would love to play. We could go downstairs to a private room or pick a more secluded corner. It doesn’t have to be anything too intense. Master would like to watch.”

“I’m sure Michael would like to watch as well,” Etan added. “Of course, only if you would like to.”

Was it weird to feel so close with this couple she barely knew? Without a second thought, they had taken her in and brought her here. For the first time, she felt she belonged, and was welcomed with open arms and minds. They had told her there was nothing wrong with her when she found their play stimulating, and it had changed her world. She couldn’t describe the affection she had for the duo.

Hermione was torn between completely turned on and downright terrified. She took a steadying breath – man, she had needed a lot of those lately – and gave them her answer. “Yes, I’d like to play with you, Rose,” she said softly.

Etan’s eyes darkened perceptibly, and he turned his intense gaze from Rose to Hermione. “Come, wife…Miss. Let us head downstairs. He gave Rose a playful tap on her hip, helping her push to stand, before offering Hermione a hand. Accepting it, she gave him a grateful smile.

Watching them go before her, Hermione mused at her clothing choice for the evening. She had chosen another dress from her closet, just a basic little black dress. It had a boatneck collar with cap sleeves, fit her tightly to the hips, and then had a flared skirt that fell to just above her knees. A flashy pair of three-inch heels in shiny red completed her attire. It was a much simpler ensemble than the form fitting red silk from last weekend, and not as flashy as the corset. She still felt lovely in it, but not as sexy. Besides, what she was wearing underneath more than made up for it! Rose looked unbelievably incredible. She was going to have to invest in some more clothing for her time here.

“Rose?” she asked softly as the trio started into the dungeon. “Would you be willing to go shopping with me? You must know where to get the right clothing for here?”

Rose glanced from Hermione to her Master and Hermione could read the overwhelming elation in them as well as her husband could. “May I, Master?” It was said with a trembling voice that was being tightly reigned in.

“Hmm.” They had reached the bottom of the stairs and Etan turned to both women. They were standing very close together. He watched as Hermione reached up to take her mask off, slipping it into the pocket of her dress. Gods, she was a lovely girl. A pixie, petite, tiny little thing with a beautiful rack for her frame. Nothing like his English Rose’s breasts, of course, but Etan had always been a fan of heavier set women. More curves, softer skin, bigger bums and breasts. He was getting side tracked thinking about watching these two lovelies play. “I don’t see why not, pet,” he answered her with a smile. She gave a little squeak of delight before pulling it back in when he gave her a Look.

“Rose, I give you permission to guide the scene for now. I will give directives as I see fit. Hermione, what are your safewords?”

Oh! She had figured out new ones. “Quaffle for slow, bludger for stop.” She said with a smirk. Etan grinned.

“Quidditch fan?”

“Not particularly, which is why I thought they would work well for me. Anyone who knows me even a little bit knows I wouldn’t be interested in discussing Quidditch while being intimate.”

He and Rose laughed together when Hermione ended her explanation with a beaming smile.

“My safeword is Helga. Just a full stop one. Master says I’m good at communicating if I need things to slow down,” a grinning Rose said.

“Helga,” Hermione repeated. “Okay.” She was trembling a bit.

“Did you decide where?” Etan asked softly, noting her fear.

“I’ll let you decide, I’m truly fine with either scenario. We can go somewhere private or stay out here.”

“The couches, then, Rose,” Etan declared.

A few minutes later, Hermione found herself sitting next to Rose on a dark grey leather sofa. They were in a more secluded corner of the gathering space, but she could still see and hear other things that were happening. Etan had left the girls alone to talk for a bit in order to find Michael. The potential Dom had told him he would join them after he finished watching another grouping on the opposite side of the room. Currently, Etan was sitting across from them on the opposite couch. 

Hermione was now allowing the young girl to touch her. Her heart was flying as Rose trailed soft fingers up and down one arm while holding her hand. “You have absolutely beautiful skin, Hermione,” she whispered, leaning closer to her. Hermione’s breath hitched.

“Thank you,” she murmured, unable to look at either of her companions. “Master Lucius told me it was like a porcelain doll’s.” She smirked and then shuddered when Rose’s fingers dipped into the edge of her cap sleeve before trailing over it and around her to her cleavage.

“He’s not wrong. Is that why he kept referring to you as Doll?” Rose questioned with a smirk.

“Yes, I believe it’s his pet name for me.”

“The Doll of The Dungeon, my English Rose.” Etan grinned. “Perhaps that should stick?”

Hermione looked at him, tilting her head. She liked it, so she gave him a slow smile, Then she gasped when Rose leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the underside of her jaw. “You can touch me, too, Hermione. If you’d like.”

 _Oh, I’d like. Bloody fuck!_ She was trembling something fierce. She had never found same sex pairings unattractive, always just very intriguing. It was very surreal to her, however, that she was experiencing one first hand. She had always been curious, though. So curious. She tilted her head, catching Rose’s eyes before slowly moving forward to catch her lips with her own. Rose gave a startled gasp, but responded enthusiastically enough by reaching forward and sliding both sets of fingers into Hermione’s wild locks. She slid her tongue over Rose’s lips, which parted eagerly, and a soft moan left both of their throats at the same time. Kissing a woman…well it was quite different from kissing a man.

Rose was soft, where men where hard. Her lips tasted like cherries and felt like silk covered pillows. Hermione let out a surprised gasp when Rose caught her bottom lip between her teeth, giving it a gentle tug before sucking it into her own mouth. “Mm,” Hermione let an affirmative noise rumble in her throat and heard a small giggle from her companion.

“It’s nice, yeah?” Rose whispered against Hermione’s mouth. She left the curly-haired witch’s lips to trail open mouthed kisses down her jaw before nibbling at the pulse point in her neck. It was a shocking sensation (she had only ever known rough jaws and hard lips), but a pleasant one. Hermione, feeling emboldened, and completely caught up with what she was experiencing, bravely slipped her hands around and then up Rose’s bare midriff, caressing the underside of one of her breasts. Her skin was like satin.

Rose whimpered and melted into her touch, which only made Hermione feel braver. She cupped it, (it was so much heavier than her own) running a caress over the fabric, feeling the younger girl’s nipple pebble beneath the pad of her thumb.

“Remove your top, Rose.” Hermione jumped at the sound of Etan’s voice and pulled away, breathless. She had almost forgotten they had an audience. She looked up to see that the audience had grown a bit. There was now a man in his early thirties with sandy blond hair sitting in the other corner of the couch Etan was on. His arm was outstretched along the back, one ankle over the opposite knee. His eyes were contemplative as she looked at him. Slightly behind the couch, at a bit of a distance was… _Oh, Gods._ Snape. Snape was watching. She felt her excitement triple and turned her attention to Etan. She would give Snape a show. Let him know exactly what he was missing.

“Permission to speak, Master Etan?” she requested in a soft, subdued voice as she watched Rose untie her bralette with heavy lidded eyes. Fuck, her breasts were beautiful, her olive toned skin was utterly flawless with pert, brown nipples.

“Granted, Miss Granger.” Master Etan raised an eyebrow, a smile quirking one corner of his mouth.

“I wish for you to direct my actions, as well,” she said clearly. “I will consent to punishment if I make a mistake.”

Etan’s other eyebrow rose to join the first and she felt a small thrill run through her. “Hm, intriguing. Pet?” he addressed Rose. “Are you agreeable, my love?”

“Oh, yes, sir.” Rose’s eyes glittered with anticipation.

“Remove your dress, Miss Granger.” He barely waited for Rose to finish speaking. Hermione immediately stood, lifting her left arm to drag down the side zipper of her little black dress. She shrugged out of the sleeves and let the fabric pool at her feet with no embarrassment. She was ready to be out of the thing because of what she had on underneath.

“Bloody hell,” the sandy-haired man whispered, sitting forward to rest his elbows on his knees. What she really relished, though, was the low, visceral growl of the man a half of dozen feet away, hiding in the shadows.

The lace teddy she wore was a bodysuit. She had purchased it as a little treat for herself after she and Oliver split, something to make her feel sexy. It was cerulean blue in color and had a plunging cut, underwire bra with scalloped lace trim that trailed over the swell of her breasts. The straps were thin lace. The panty portion rode low on the hips. It also had scalloped edges with full frontal coverage in silk and a thong in the back. Only Rose could see this, and she felt the witch run light fingertips over the swell of her bum and shuddered, looking over her shoulder at the girl with a coy smile.

The bra and panty were connected with a belly panel that was like a second skin over her abdominals. It was solid silk on the outside with a sheer, scalloped lace edge on the inside. It left the skin from just under her sternum to two inches above her belly button bare, with another oval of bare skin surrounding her navel. There was a crystal at the center of her breasts, just above her belly button, and at the top of each thigh that caught the low flickering candles perfectly. They set off a dazzle of sparkle that seemed to entrance the watching wizards.

“Twirl in a circle for me, Doll. Hands above you.” Hermione’s head snapped up, away from Rose and she let out a shaky breath as she looked into the gorgeously handsome face of Lucius Malfoy. Eyes darkened with lust returned her gaze. _Oh, holy fuck._ Liquid heat pooled in her belly. She now had four Dominant males watching her play with Rose, and wasn’t sure if she could get more turned on.  The dampness of her knickers was strong evidence. It was also a fact that every person looking at her could see her erect nipples through the fabric of her teddy, they felt like they could cut glass.

“Yes, Master Lucius.” She watched a muscle in his jaw twitch at the way she addressed him. She missed the incredulous look Etan gave him and Lucius’ grimace of an apology in return. She slowly laced her fingers in front of her and twisted her arms above her head. The position threw her chest out before she did a slow pirouette, making sure the wizards got a good view of her bare bum. Rose winked at her conspiratorially as she rotated by. Hermione grinned. When she faced forward again, she let her hands fall and waited for her next directive.

“Again.” It was Snape’s low baritone that rumbled through her senses this time. Etan gave an exasperated sigh, but Hermione didn’t even begin to notice. She locked eyes with Snape for a moment and a spark of electricity shot through the air, making her breath catch in her throat. _Oh, Gods. Tell me he felt that, too._

“Of course, Master Snape,” she whispered. This time, she actually put her body into the fifth ballet position. She lifted her head as she maintained eye contact with her old professor and stretched her body, elongating her spine and neck before repeating the pirouette just as slowly as the first time.

“Stunning,” came a voice she didn’t recognize. It must be the sandy-haired man. _I wonder if that’s Michael?_

“She is,” Lucius agreed. Hermione felt her cheeks flush with satisfaction. _Apparently, I_ like _being on display._

“Rose, stand and remove Hermione’s body suit,” Etan directed. “Hermione, you may relax.” There was a pause while Hermione dropped her arms and untucked her feet. Then Etan rounded on the other men in their circle. “To avoid confusion and prevent slip ups, I request all other Dominants to allow me to give directives as etiquette dictates. Let us not put these ladies into an impossible situation. Ladies, you will follow instructions immediately, with no questions. For every mistake, you receive five hits with the implement of your choosing. Are we understood?”

“Yes, Master Etan,” Hermione and Rose answered in perfect unison. A couple of appreciative grunts came from this display of obedience. Rose started to undo the clasp at Hermione’s back, sliding soft hands up and over her shoulders once it was undone so she could slip the straps off. Moments later, she was as naked as the day she was born save her red stilettos. It was exhilarating. She turned to face Rose, gently brushing the back of her fingertips over her cheek.

Rose gave her a sweet smile and turned her attention to Etan, awaiting their next command. “Touch each other. You may stand or sit. Hands and mouths are permitted.” Except for his eyes, Master Etan looked completely blasé about the goings on in front of him. Hermione was a flipping ball of shuddering nerves as she saw a couple more people pause outside of their intimate circle. She was distracted by a movement and her gaze was caught by black eyes. He raised an eyebrow, a challenging smirk crossing his face. He was _daring_ her to continue. _I’ll effing show him, the bastard!_

Slowly, but deliberately, she leaned forward and took Rose’s mouth with her own again, sliding her hands up the witch’s arms and into her hair. Mind whirring, she grasped the back of Rose’s head. In order to calm her nerves, she needed to get the ball rolling, but was worried about displaying dominance in this scenario. She wanted to prove she could be a good submissive. Snape _needed_ to take notice of her. She wanted Lucius to eagerly wish to train her even more than he had already expressed. (Although, she wasn’t sure why that was, probably just her own selfish pleasure at being desired.)  She wanted Michael to take notice. She wanted to please Etan and have him be proud of her. So, she broke the kiss, trailing her lips across Rose’s cheek to the ear facing away from all the prying eyes and whispered in her ear.

“Please take control,” she begged quietly. “I wish to be submissive to you and Etan.” Rose sucked in a quick breath before pulling back and searching Hermione’s eyes for just a moment. Then she glanced up at their spectators and to her Master. He gave her a brief nod, as if he had known exactly what Hermione had requested.

With this, an inferno started. Rose wrapped Hermione in her arms, smoothing her palms along the her back, trailing fingers up her spine and snogging her as if Hermione were water and Rose had just gotten back from days in the desert.

The next thing she knew, Hermione was pushed onto the couch and straddled by the girl. Olive-toned hands fisted into wild chestnut curls. They started groping each other. Hermione’s hands cupped Rose’s bum as the younger witch nipped and nibbled at her neck before cupping and lifting a breast to her full, pouty lips. Hermione could not help the wanton moan that left her throat, or the roll of her hips, as Rose rolled and pinched the nipple she was not suckling between her thumb and forefinger.

“Rose, on your knees in front of her and continue to play with her tits. Use your mouth and your teeth.” Another directive from Etan left Hermione shivering with anticipation and electrified fear.

Rose gave Hermione a wicked grin before sliding down her body to the floor. Hermione gasped, shivering. Her eyes darkening perceptibly. There had been no way to know how hot being with another woman could be. Rose pulled Hermione by her hips until she was sitting on the very edge of the couch, her legs parted lewdly so the bigger girl could kneel between them. Rose slid her palms up Hermione’s ribcage, sending a wave of tingly pleasure in her wake. Leaning forward, she captured the dusky pink peak of her right breast between silky lips. Hermione’s head fell back with a soft gasp and her hands came of up their own volition to bury her fingers in Rose’s dark brown tresses, holding her in place. _Ho – ly FUCK._

“Ah,” she whimpered when Rose scraped the nipple with her teeth before trailing open-mouthed kisses across Hermione’s chest to ravage the left side with equal ardor. Her grasp tightened in the grey-eyed girl’s hair. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to pull her closer, or push her away.

She sensed a shadow fall over them and her eyes slowly fluttered open to find Master Etan standing in front of them. He whispered low to both submissives. “I want to fuck Rose while she goes down on you, Hermione. Tell me what color you are.” Hermione was momentarily confused and then her mind came across a tucked away tidbit of information. Green = go. Yellow = slow. Red = stop.

“Green, sir,” she said just as softly.

“Lean back against the couch cushions, Hermione, hips stay at the edge. Keep your knees apart. Rose, on your hands and knees. I want you to make Miss Granger come using your mouth only, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir!” Rose sounded most enthusiastic, making Hermione’s face go scarlet. Even though she was embarrassed, she did as she was directed, following each command precisely. She _was_ trying to make a point, after all, even if she could feel every eye on her.

She watched through her eyelashes as Rose sank in front of her, giving her a reassuring smirk. With a wink, she ever-so-gently used her nose to tickle the dark hair that covered Hermione’s slit. Hermione jerked with the sensation before forcing herself to relax even though she was quite certain she might pass out from the trepidation she was experiencing. She squeezed her eyes shut tight.

“Oooh,” she sighed, feeling Rose plant a soft kiss on her quim. It seemed to be all the encouragement the younger witch needed, because she was off, tongue lapping out, parting her lips, and digging deep. Hermione cried out, arching her back to give Rose better access.

Rose obliged more than willingly, burying her face deeper into the famous witch’s snatch, seeking out her clit. A low groan left Hermione’s lips, and Rose knew she found it when the other woman’s hands sunk into her hair again. Behind her she could feel her Master playing with her cheeks, kneading them gently, smoothing a hand up her lower back. She pushed back into him eagerly and he gave her an upward warning hit to her bum. Hermione tugged at her hair with a gasp when she grunted. She grinned into Hermione’s sex before redoubling her efforts on her beautifully erect clit. “Unnghh!” Hermione moaned and Rose wiggled her bum back when she felt Etan roll her knickers down.

“Finger her, Rose,” he commanded. Rose was only too happy to comply, thrilled her Master changed his mind about not using her hands. She removed her mouth from Hermione’s clit, sucking two fingers in to dampen them before returning to her task. She scooped the arousal from Hermione’s opening and spread it through her folds before gently slipping two fingers up inside her. Behind her, Master Etan did the same. She hummed, making Hermione squirm, small pants falling from her mouth. _Christ, I’m giving head to Hermione effing Granger!_ She increased the pace of her tongue, keeping it light and fast. She was determined to make this witch fall apart.

* * *

“Is that…?” Snape startled at the sound of a familiar tenor voice. He hadn’t realized his God-son was here tonight. “Merlin’s balls, is that _Granger_?”  
  
It was a hiss of total surprise, and Snape couldn’t blame him. Apparently, Miss Granger was full of bloody surprises. Such as having a three-some on her third night at his club. He tilted his head at Draco and lifted an eyebrow. “Indeed,” he answered in a barely audible voice.

“Damn, she’s going to make one hell of a Dominatrix!” Draco’s astonishment turned slightly contemplative as he reangled his body to watch… _oh, looks like Rose_ …go down on Granger whose head was thrown back in complete abandonment, fingers buried in the other witch’s hair.

“Miss Granger, I want you to come! Do you understand?” Etan’s voice ripped out, low and commanding as he took Rose from behind, making the younger girl moan into Hermione’s pussy, which caused Hermione to gasp loudly.

“Yes, sir!” she exclaimed. “So close!”

“Not a Dominatrix,” Snape said, amusement and lust thick in his voice.

“No…fucking…way,” Draco muttered. “She’s a _sub_?”

“Unnnnggghh!!!”

“Fuck.” Five male voices sounded at almost the exact same time at the sight of the Gryffindor climaxing. Her body bowed back at an impossible angle, her beautiful breasts bouncing slightly at the rhythm Etan had set for him and Rose. Rose, sliding her fingers in and out of Hermione’s audibly wet channel, playing her through her orgasm, pulled her mouth away to give a tell-tale sound of pleasure before convulsing in her own climax.

“Holy hell,” Draco muttered. It was a hot scene, if not particularly creative. Watching Granger slowly come down from her high as she observed Etan climaxing in his new wife was intoxicating. Her eyes flashed with raw heat, and a blush of scarlet covered her face, neck, and chest. She was completely lost to her senses and the two people in front of her.  

“When did she start coming here?”

“A week ago,” Snape answered. Draco did not miss the way his eyes never left his old classmate’s sated face. He had to admit, Granger looked bloody striking.

“How long has she been a sub?”

“A week.”

“Shut up.”

“Not joking.”

Draco studied the scene in front of him with new eyes, taking in the trio who were coming back to Earth. He watched, his cock twitching, as the voluptuous Rose leaned up to kiss the minx that was apparently Hermione-fucking-submissive-Granger.

“Excuse me, Draco.” He watched Snape step behind the couch, his eyes not leaving the scene where Etan was now pressing a gentle kiss to Granger’s forehead. He leaned over to a guy Draco wasn’t familiar with. He was sitting on the couch, also watching the fun. Granger and Rose were now kissing sweetly. He flicked his eyes to his father, who was standing slightly behind Snape, watching him with a smirk of epic proportion on his face. Snape was whispering something in couch-man’s ear. Neither Malfoy missed the sandy-haired man’s pallor change from flushed and aroused to sickly white. He jerked away from Snape, standing quickly.

Draco watched in confusion as the sandy-haired man muttered something in Etan’s ear quickly, while the two ladies were helping each other back into their clothing – _DAMN, Granger’s teddy is hot_ – before he took off across the room.

Draco observed him curiously for a moment before turning back to catch Snape’s eye. He was startled to see his Godfather stalking away in the opposite direction with a deep scowl on his face.

Draco exchanged another look with his father – who shrugged as if to say: _Are you really surprised? It’s Snape!_ – before he glanced back to the trio. His gaze landed right on the wide, doe-eyes of his Hogwarts classmate. She looked terrified as he let a slow, sexy grin cross his face. This was going to be too much fucking fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To see photos that inspired the body suit in this chapter, find us on FB or Tumblr:
> 
> Facebook: www.facebook.com/snowand.lissa.7
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> Tumblr: LissaDream AND SnowBlind12


	7. Chapter Seven

** Chapter Seven **

* * *

Holy crap, Draco Malfoy got hot. He was actually taller than his father, with broader shoulders and a narrower waist. He was wearing a pair of dark washed blue jeans, low on his hips and was shirtless with a simple pair of leather thong sandals. His muscles were well defined, his jaw line had filled out, and his cheek bones were high. His grey eyes were identical to Lucius'. His white-blond hair was shaved up the sides and back, but left long on top. It was artfully gelled and teased to fall slightly into his eyes.

Hermione felt her eyes widen as a slow, sexy grin crossed his face. He looked like a cat who got the canary…and she was the canary. Her eyes flitted to Lucius who raised an eyebrow at her in amusement, one corner of his mouth quirking into a half smirk. Turning her gaze back to Draco, she squared her shoulders and tilted her chin up, daring him to say anything. He took her dare.

"You got hot, Granger." His voice was light and teasing, his smile staying easy and genuine. It caught her slightly off guard, she couldn't remember a single time Malfoy had ever complimented her.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, feeling defensive. Was he giving her shit? She knew she wasn't ugly, by any means. Physically, she was in downright stunning. To be told she was hot, though? By _him_? She was waiting for the other shoe to drop. The scathing remarks he was so well known for had to be coming, right? No? It was then she realized the silence was getting awkward. It was her turn to speak.

Begrudgingly, she looked him up and down, letting a nonchalant smile curl her lips. "Not so bad yourself, there, Malfoy."

Obviously, it wasn't what he expected as his eyes rounded out slightly, before narrowing. He seemed to be studying her sincerity. She broke first, walking forward with a hand outstretched. Hadn't Etan just berated her gently for being judgmental? She certainly wasn't the same person she had been all those years ago.

He looked at her hand warily and took a step back, eyes flickering over to his father. Lucius frowned at him questioningly. She paused, a feeling of disbelief crashing over her. Draco Malfoy was still holding on to prejudices? Or was it just her whom he didn't want to touch? The feeling disappeared as he hesitantly reached out and took her outstretched hand in his own. His skin was warm and smooth. "Fancy meeting you here." His tone was teasing. Hermione felt a genuine smile cross her face.

"I heard you were here tonight," she said softly. "I've been on the lookout, not sure what to expect."

"I didn't hear you were here tonight, but I certainly witnessed a show," he winked and groaned inwardly as a light blush rose to her cheeks. There were very few women he ever wanted to Dominate. It had been over a year since he had played the Dom role. But, suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to Dominate _this_ witch. This was Hermione Granger, make that a new and improved Hermione Granger. Sexy and submissive. Christmas had come early and he wanted nothing more than to get a taste. He imagined her soft round bottom perched over a bench – crimson from a good, hard spanking. Her pretty pink mouth would look gorgeous full of a red ball gag. He could see himself with a leather paddle in his hand. Or a whip could be fun. His mind started to whirl. She could be _extremely_ fun to do a consensual non-consensual scene with…if she was into that sort of thing. That was one type of scene where he very much enjoyed being the Top. Their shared history and animosity could make it extra spectacular.

Without a second thought, he used the hand he was holding to tug her closer. She gasped as he placed his lips near her ear. "Scene with me, right now. You know it would be explosive," he hissed urgently. It didn't surprise him when she ripped herself away from him, yanking her hand out of his grasp.

"I don't think so," she replied haughtily. "You don't even like me."

"What does that matter?" he grinned at her. "You don't have to like someone to scene with them. Come on, Granger, the thought of spanking your delicious ass is almost more than I can bare."

"Draco, how crass." Lucius rolled his eyes at his son as he joined their little grouping. The panicked look on Hermione's face was making Lucius feel overly protective of her.

"Thank you for the offer, Malfoy," Hermione said coolly. "But I'm not interested."

"Ouch!" Draco winced unconvincingly, being his huge grin seemed to only spread further. "I'll convince you eventually." He winked again. "I saw Miriam come in a bit ago, Father. I think I'm going to see if she would like to play. Granger." He nodded a farewell to Hermione and took his leave.

Hermione started after him, completely flabbergasted. He wanted to scene with her? What kind of alternate universe had she walked into?

"You'll have to forgive my son, Miss Granger," Lucius drawled. His voice sent a cascade of awareness straight to her groin. He grinned when she noticeably shifted her weight in agitation. "The boy has never really learned proper manners. Something that most people of your generation lack."

Hermione tilted her head, feeling offended and opened her mouth to say so when she caught herself. He was watching her with an expectant expression. Bastard was _testing_ her. She slowly closed her mouth, relishing the twinkle that shone in his eyes.

"How rude, Master Lucius," she said, lowering her voice to a husky whisper. "Trying to catch me in a moment of weakness? You know exactly how Draco makes me feel, sir." She kept her voice soft and sweet. "Taking advantage of that could be considered a deliberate set up to make me fail." She jutted out one hip and rested her hand on it, popping her lower lip into a pout. "You don't really want me to fail, do you…sir?" Hermione looked up at him through her lashes, gratified when he swallowed hard.

"I think the possibility of you failing anyone here gets smaller every time you open your mouth, Doll," Lucius said silkily.

"Thank you, sir," she whispered seductively. "That means so much, coming from you." Hermione was enjoying their little game.

"Hermione," Etan called out as he and Rose came up behind Lucius. "I'm really sorry, Michael has changed his mind about taking on a submissive at this time. He feels he probably needs to work with someone who has more experience than you. He told me to pass on to you that he found you exquisite. He was nervous about working with you, being who you are."

Lucius watched with a slight frown as Hermione's face fell and a look of uncertainty crossed it. "He didn't even want to speak with me?" she asked quietly.

Etan looked uncomfortable for a moment and exchanged a glance with Malfoy. "No, Doll, I'm sorry."

"Hermione," Lucius said softly. "You did nothing wrong, you're being too hard on yourself."

Hermione wasn't sure why she felt so upset. She hadn't really been interested in him, anyhow. Michael's stature had been too small for her liking and it made her nervous he was newly trained with no experience training a sub. It seemed as though, selfishly, she had just wanted to be wanted.

"Yes, sir," Hermione murmured. "Thank you for saying that."

Rose closed the distance between her and Hermione and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Don't think about it, Hermione. It took me many tries before I found the right Dom to train me."

Hermione searched the brunette's eyes for a moment before offering a small smile. "Thanks, Rose. I'm sure I'll find someone."

Lucius cleared his throat with a raised eyebrow and Hermione felt herself flush. Once again, she wondered if she should just take Lucius up on his offer. "I know your offer still stands, sir," she said kindly. "I appreciate it. I don't know why it bothers me Master Michael wasn't interested, he was newer to the scene himself, and I can't imagine I would have been comfortable with his inexperience."

Lucius nodded while Etan began to speak. "Can I give you a pointer, Doll?" He noticed Lucius look at him oddly. "Do you like it, Lucius? It's my understanding you gave her the nickname. Telling her she looked like a porcelain doll? Rose and I decided it would be fun to refer to her as the Doll of The Dungeon."

Lucius crossed his right arm over his chest to cup the elbow of his left arm as it raised his face, his forefinger and thumb framing his chin and lips in contemplation. He smirked as he gave a nod. "It suits her well. Do you like it, Doll?" he asked.

She blushed and gave an affirmative answer. "I do."

"Back to my pointer," Etan continued. "You should not call every Dominant 'Master,'" he said kindly. "Master Snape and Master Lucius are owners here, and they are given that title out of respect. I would prefer you call me Etan and I'm sure Rose would prefer it as well. I am _her_ Master. It is a title I have earned through much trust building with her. Also, it's quite impossible to know who is a Top and who is a bottom until you are told. Wait to be introduced or introduce yourself politely. Ask what people wish to be called. Most Doms do not care how you address them as long as it is done with respect. When you find your Master, and have that connection with him, you'll understand the significance of the title more thoroughly. Do you have any questions?"

"No, sir," Hermione said with a smile. "Thank you for clarifying that for me."

"My pleasure." Etan returned her smile, clasping his hands behind his back. "Rose and I are planning on retiring for the evening. I understand it is still early, but we are a bit jet legged from our honeymoon. You are more than welcome to stay, but we are also happy to escort you to the Apparition point if you are ready to leave."

Hermione glanced at Lucius out of the corner of her eye. She didn't really want to leave yet, but she also didn't want to stay here alone. She faltered for a moment, not sure how to answer.

"I am afraid I have an appointment, Miss Granger," Lucius said hesitantly after an awkward pause. "I would have loved to keep you company this evening if I had known you would be here on your own. I do apologize."

"Oh, no, sir," Hermione said automatically, trying to stem the inexcusable twinge of envy that coursed through her. She hoped she hid her disappointment. "I completely understand. I have actually had quite a long week." She turned to Eton and smiled. "I will walk out with you, Etan…Rose. I thank you for your offer."

"Goodnight, Master Lucius," Rose said softly, smiling up at him. Etan shook his hand.

"I do wish I didn't have a prior engagement, Doll," Lucius said regretfully as he took Hermione's hand. He pressed a kiss to the back of her knuckles, gritting his teeth when she shivered at the contact. _Bloody hell, I should just tell the other witch I changed my mind._

"Have a wonderful time this evening, Master Lucius." Her voice was not quite dismissive, but wasn't as warm as it had been moment before. Was she…jealous? How deliciously…interesting.

"Thank you, Doll," he said sincerely. "Will we see you tomorrow night?"

"I do plan on coming back tomorrow," Hermione confirmed.

"Wonderful." He gave her a genuine smile. "Sleep well."

He watched as she crossed the room, following a few steps behind Etan and Rose, arms crossed over her stomach. He hated that she was looking so unsure of herself again. Smile slipping, he realized he needed to have a chat with Snape. He was positive his friend had turned off this Michael fellow. While Lucius secretly applauded his friend's tenacity, he knew the man had no intention of training Granger himself. Snape needed to back off and let her find someone who was willing to train her. If he blocked every Dom who took interest in her, she could wind up in a dangerous situation. Granger was obviously experiencing some sub-frenzy, which can happen when a new sub enters the scene. Lucius would hate for her to find herself in a sketchy situation. He understood that she was excited and feeling some self-affirmation, but her excitement could get her in trouble. Especially if it was being egged on by jealousy and frustration.

Lucius decided that he would tell Snape to back off. He would also ask around to see if anyone he trusted was interested in training a submissive and help Etan find someone for the girl. Part of him hoped she would change her mind and agree to train with him, but he respected her decision to experience a bit more.

He started scanning the crowd, looking for his best friend. After an age, he spotted the man's black robes disappearing up the stairs and started after him. Lucius followed at a distance, relieved to find Snape heading towards his office. It would be much easier to talk with him privately there. It was becoming busy and the bar area was packed with bodies, he had to excuse himself through the throng of eclectic witches and wizards. Finally, he knocked on Snape's door.

"Enter."

"We need to talk." Confronting Snape was always a risky task, one he had undertaken many times throughout the years. However, confronting Snape about a woman…well. Let's just say it was his least favorite thing to do.

Snape sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his lips and raising his eyebrows. "About…?"

"I think you know, Snape," Lucius sighed deeply and settled into the leather chair opposite his friend's desk.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Snape remained aloof as he returned to his quill and ledgers.

"Did you turn Michael McConnel off Granger?" Lucius stated his inquiry bluntly, it was the best approach with Severus Snape.

Snape very slowly lowered the quill and raised his dark and brooding eyes to the blond man sitting in front of him. "And why would I do that?" He sneered.

"Because you want her." Again, Lucius' words were simple.

Snape knit his brows together in an impressive attempt to look confused. A lesser person would have believed the man, Lucius did not.

"Cut the bullshit, Snape," he snapped. "You cock-blocked McConnel. Fine. I actually applaud it, he was a poor match for her. However, do you realize what you did to Granger?"

"I did nothing to Granger." He replied dismissively as he looked over the prior evening's ledgers.

"I don't believe you intended it, but your actions have consequences." Lucius felt maddened. "You of all people should know this."

There was a pregnant pause before Snape snapped, finally looking up. "What did I apparently _do_ to Miss Granger?"

"Made her feel insecure when she was told McConnel had changed his mind about meeting her, after watching her with another woman. Her _first time_ with another woman."

Snape's only reaction was a light paling to his complexion, his expression remained unchanged. He didn't speak.

"I think we give Miss Granger too much credit," Lucius continued softly after a beat. "We know her as a powerful witch, an influential solicitor. She is strong, brave, and not afraid to fight for what she believes in." He sighed and wiped a hand down his face before rubbing his thumb and forefinger on his forehead. "She has proven to have a true inclination to submissiveness, which I think you and I both find utterly beguiling.

"I know Miss Granger is a formidable woman, someone not to be trifled with in her everyday life but … Snape. You and I both know very well that the strongest of people entering this lifestyle can be horribly insecure in their sexuality. The bit of her past she shared with me makes me feel positive her bravado is a front to cover up her true emotions.

"She's sexy, and knows she's got a beautiful body. She displays confidence, but looked for assurance during our scene more than once that I was pleased with her. What she told me about her past intimacies was abysmal. I'm sure you got the same story – I know the questions you ask. Three orgasms…I mean…who the hell was she sleeping with?!" Snape snorted his agreement, but Lucius barely paused for a breath.

"She is not confident in the bedroom, Snape. She's watching for your approval. She's watching for mine, and Etan's, and I believe she'll watch every Dom who interacts with her. She needs to be brought up, not torn down. She is not cocky or over-confident. She is not the Hermione Granger we knew from the war."

He paused again, wanting to make sure his words were just right. "I don't know what happened between the two of you, and I don't want you to tell me." Lucius sat forward in his chair, a determined look on his face. "The girl wants you. Don't ask me the fuck why, because I haven't a clue." His tone was still serious, but laced with enough irony to let his friend know he was giving him a hard time. "If you're not going to figure out what it is that transpired between the two of you, you could at least give her the courtesy of backing the fuck off so she can figure out what she wants on her own."

"And why do you suddenly feel like the chit's keeper, Malfoy?" Snape said snidely after a brief break in the conversation. A deep frown was etched into his face, bringing out the groove between his eyebrows. He hated the way Lucius seemed so possessive of the girl.

"Because I saw the confusion and hurt on her face tonight when Etan told her McConnel changed his mind about meeting her." Lucius sat back in the leather chair once again. He crossed his ankle over his opposite knee while taking in Snape's slight wince.

After a somewhat uncomfortable silence, Snape gave a brief nod. "Your concern is noted. I appreciate you being honest with me. I will find something to…distract myself from Miss Granger. I entrust you and Etan can help her find what she is looking for without my assistance?"

Lucius knew he was being dismissed and gave a rueful shake of his head. "Why do I have a feeling what I just said went in one ear and out the other, old friend?"

"Perhaps because you've always been a very perceptive man, Malfoy," Snape returned, dismissing Lucius with an annoyed wave of his hand. "Good-night."

Lucius stood and took a couple of steps towards the office door. "I'm serious, Severus. The girl is vulnerable. Take responsibility for her, or back off."

"I have heard what you said, Lucius." Snape's voice was quite cool. "Good-night," he repeated.

Lucius left without another word.

* * *

The next evening, Hermione made her way into The Dungeon and decided not to seek out any of the people she knew. She wanted time to just observe without being beholden to anyone's expectations or whims.

She wore a simple plum colored cocktail dress that she had donned numerous times over the last few years. It sported an off the shoulder neckline with short sleeves and an A-line design. The only thing that was special about it was the high-low hem line, the front falling to about three inches above her knees and the back falling just below her knees. She had on black silk stockings with garter belt and stays over her black lace panties. Again, she wore no bra. Hermione had chosen her outfit for the night carefully, focusing on it being simple, elegant, and not too revealing. She didn't want to draw attention to herself.

Masking her identity from even those she knew would prove to be a bit more difficult with how wild her hair usually was. She had taken the time to make her ringlets silky smooth before wrapping a braid around the crown of her head and piling her curls up into the middle of it.

It was after eleven at night when she arrived and, making sure her mask was in place, she skipped the bar and headed straight into the basement. The Dungeon was the busiest she had ever seen it. Apparently, it was a demonstration night. There was a crowd around the stage, and two small alcoves she had not noticed on her last couple forays were lit and occupied. One alcove sported a few people engaged in rope play, the other a whipping demonstration. The largest crowd was in front of the stage, however. She moved towards it.

Suddenly, the house lights dimmed and the stage lights came on gently, giving it a soft glow. Hermione was apparently just in time for a show, and excitement shot through her. She had been eager to witness a demonstration. The stage was set up so that observers could stand anywhere around it, except for behind it. A lovely redhead was kneeling, facing the crowd. Her legs were shoulder width apart, her posture was perfect with a slightly arched back. Hands resting palms up, her head was bowed with her gaze on the floor in front of her. Her striking red hair was pulled into a long braid that draped halfway down her back. Hermione guessed the submissive to be approximately thirty-three to thirty-five years in age. She presented a stunning and quite perfect naked form- neither too thin nor too heavy set. Hermione felt like a tiny twig compared to her.

There was a movement of black from the back of the stage, and Hermione gasped as Severus Snape entered the room. Instantly, she started to push her way closer to the stage.

Snape's dark hair, unreadable eyes, and signature black attire matched his enrapturing voice and all around mysterious persona. This made him an obvious favorite among the submissives, if the murmuring in the crowd was any indication. On stage, however, he made much more than just an impression. He owned the room, and he knew it.

All eyes were on the stage as he began to circle the kneeling witch at his feet. A soft spotlight was centered on her kneeling form, her pale skin practically glowing. The dark form of Snape circling her was a rich and dramatic contrast. Light and dark, good and evil, submissive…and Dominant. Behind them, a table was set with a few implements. Hermione could see a few different sized canes, a flogger, rope, and a couple of candles burning.

Snape was speaking to the witch, but Hermione heard no words. He looked…almost dangerous. It was an "in control" dangerous, though. He seemed to be searching the crowd, his face severe, his muscles taught with anticipation. Her ex-professor paused momentarily when he briefly met her eyes, but seemed to dismiss her before moving back to his topic of discussion with the submissive. He wore a pair of black slacks with his trademark dragon hide boots, and a button-down style dress shirt. The sleeves were undone and rolled to his elbows, the shirt was untucked. The top few buttons had been left open, showing a hint of dark chest hair contrasting on alabaster skin. Hermione had a hard time ripping her eyes away from the enigmatic man, but did so that she could take in the woman beside him.

Hermione's attention was jerked quickly away, however, as the crowd fell into a dead silence when Snape spoke loudly. "Britt. Tonight, for the purpose of this demonstration, you will address me as Master." Hermione's heart leapt and a touch of anger lit in her belly. Promptly, she knew she was jealous. It only intensified when Snape paused behind Britt and stroked her head softly. She was started out of her jealousy when Snape suddenly pulled the witch's braid, forcing her head back. This extreme position demonstrated how limber the redhead was - her back arched impossibly and her eyes met his as he continued to tower behind her. Clearly pleased, Snape stroked her cheek with the back of his hand and then petted her head once again as if she were a feline. Judging by her reaction to his touch, one could almost imagine that she was actually purring.

Hermione gritted her teeth, but continued to take in the woman's appearance. Now that she was in closer proximity to the stage, and could see better, she realized the witch was far more than beautiful. Her face was exquisite. A perfectly shaped oval structure that was highlighted by high cheek bones and large, wide eyes framed with thick lashes. Her eyes looked to be either blue or green. Her expression was calm, cool, and very collected, even with Snape cranking her body into that bowed position. Hermione knew if she had been the one on the stage, she would have been a trembling mess.

"Britt, what are your safe words this evening?" Snape's rumbling baritone threw Hermione's train of thought off its tracks. Her amber eyes focused on him intently as his dark eyes focused solely on the redhead as he pushed her head forward to its prior position and moved to her side.

"Yellow and red, Master." _Merlin, even her voice is pretty._ It was feminine and soft, yet it had a sultry undertone to it.

Severus looked out at the crowd as he spoke. "For tonight and for the understanding of our observers this evening, I would like you to use green as well." His gaze settled on Hermione again and she bristled. She was almost positive he recognized her. Was that last statement for her? _For the understanding of our observers?_ She began fuming silently. He looked back down at Britt, her position was now to his right. "Tell me your safewords again."

"Yes, Master. My safewords are green for go, yellow for caution, and red for stop."

"Britt, tell me why we are here this evening." Once again Snape's eyes moved to the crowd, taking in the new faces that had entered the large room. Hermione's gaze moved with his, and she felt a jolt when she realized both Malfoy men were standing just opposite of her on the other side of the stage. Draco caught her eye and grinned.

Hermione pressed her lips into a line. So much for her "clever" disguise, apparently.

"Master, this submissive spoke out of turn and with disrespect earlier this week during a private session. This submissive is here for the purpose of her punishment." _A public punishment for talking out of turn?!_ Hermione found that to be a bit extreme.

"Very good, Britt. Now tell me why we are on stage tonight and not in a private room." It seemed to Hermione that Snape had the uncanny ability to read her mind. She glanced up to find Lucius watching her intently, a small frown on his face. Then his attention turned back to his friend on stage.

"Master, this submissive is having her limits pushed to include public punishment. She has performed on stage with Master before, but never when she was to be punished."

Hermione hated the additional stab of jealousy. This was _no_ t the first time these two had performed publicly. She pursed her lips tighter.

Snape held his hand up and continued staring into the crowd as a cane flew up from behind him and into his hand. There were a few low gasps, Hermione's among them. His demonstration of wandless magic was a presentation all of its own.

Ignoring the gasps, Snape looked back down at the now slightly trembling submissive beside him. The slight upturn to the corners of his mouth gave away his pleasure at seeing her reaction. His voice was low and quiet, yet still carried throughout the room. "Britt, please stand and approach the whipping bench in the center of the stage."

Hermione's arms crossed protectively around her waist. Perhaps it would be best if she didn't watch this? The ache of envy in her belly intensified. She really didn't want to see Snape with another witch. Of course, she knew he was with other women, he had made that clear. After the intensity of what they had shared the other night, though, she just wasn't sure she wanted to witness it firsthand.

The cane in his left hand, he held his right hand out, palm up, towards Britt. The woman looked up and met his eyes as she gently placed her left hand into his. Once she was standing, Hermione's heart sank.

Britt was very tall and exquisitely elegant with creamy, flawless skin. Her collar bones stood out, her breasts looked soft and were topped with pale pink nipples. Her stomach was not flat, but slightly convex and smoothed into wide hips and elegantly long legs. Hermione had difficulty determining the witch's height from where she was, but would guess her to be between five-foot-seven and five-foot-nine.

A feeling of inadequacy rippled over Hermione like a disillusionment charm, causing a ping of pain in the pit of her chest. She could never compare to a woman like this. It didn't help, either, that Hermione was realizing Snape apparently had a "type." The witch looked very, very similar to Lily Potter and Hermione was quite aware of this significance. She hated the lump that formed in her throat. What the hell was her problem? It's not like Snape was _hers_. Damn him for making her feel this way.

A large part of her wanted to listen to the voice that was telling her to turn and run away, but the smaller part of her – the one that was morbidly curious about the scene she would witness – forced her to stay. Besides her curiosity, she could feel the palpable excitement from those in the audience.

Something niggled in the back of her mind, a feeling she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was almost as if… _don't be ridiculous, Hermione._ She shook her head, but couldn't quite get the notion out of her cognizance that he was doing this to prove something to her.

Hermione watched with growing trepidation as Britt promptly walked to the bench and circled behind it so that she was facing the front of the stage and the crowd.

Snape stalked towards the redhead. "Lean over the bench so that your bottom is in the proper position." He said commandingly. The tenor of his voice sent shivers of pleasure down Hermione's spine.

Britt leaned forward and over the bench, leaving her bottom on display for the Dominant in black beside her. Her head draped on the side facing the crowd, her bottom was facing the back of the stage. Suddenly, a large mirror appeared on the upper center of the platform, giving the audience a clear view of her arse.

Severus's attention was now solely on the witch beside him, but Hermione's gaze never left him as he once again circled the witch, lightly tapping the cane against his leg. Once he was on her left side, he stepped closer. Moving the cane to his right hand, he lifted his left hand once again to pull her braid so that she was facing up and looking into the crowd.

The attention of the audience was torn between her face before them and her ass on display in the mirror. Hermione's attention was on the Master, her breathing had accelerated. She had no idea that Lucius Malfoy watched her with growing concern. She did not witness Draco's look of confusion as he watched his father watch Hermione.

If Hermione had been looking, she would have seen Britt's face display a mixture of anticipation, fear, and excitement. Severus tapped her rear lightly. "What color are we?"

"Green, Master." Britt's voice had a slight tremor to it. Snape moved the cane back to his left hand as his right hand lightly rubbed her bum. The minute his hand touched her, her eyes fluttered and she let out a slow breath. The ugly green of jealousy reared its head a little more forcefully; this time the feeling exploded in Hermione's chest. She cast her eyes down to the floor of the dais, feeling tears prick. She was embarrassed this scene was affecting her so.

Snape's beautifully hypnotic voice filled Hermione's ears again. "Eight warm up slaps will come from my hand. Sixteen punishment strikes will come from my cane." After a brief pause, he asked her once again. "What color, pet?"

"Green, Master."

Almost instantly, his hand came down on her. Hermione jumped in shock as the sound reverberated through the room, her eyes flying back to the scene before her. The first slap was followed instantly by another and then another. Hermione felt her heart rate accelerate tenfold, the "punishment" he had given her the other night was a joke in comparison. She winced as the hits continued to come fast, appearing to strike Britt on various target points of each of her cheeks and at the junction where her thighs and bottom met. After the eighth slap, he stopped and stepped back, assessing the girl.

For the first time since Britt had stood, Hermione looked at her face. It was flushed pink, her brow crinkled tight. She had not made a sound, which Hermione grudgingly found admirable. She would most likely have cried out from the force of those blows. The curly haired-brunette's gaze moved back to the man. His face spoke of confirmation, he knew his submissive witch was loving this. Hermione could see how much this pleased him, and her arms tightened around her waist, nails of each hand biting into the elbows of the opposite arm. She looked to the Malfoy men and was startled to see Lucius watching her closely with a guarded expression as Draco hissed in his father's ear. She attempted a weak smile, but really just felt like bursting into tears. _Why does this feel so personal?_

Hermione's attention was pulled back to the stage as Snape spoke again. "You will count and thank me after each strike of the cane." Hermione felt her eyes widen behind her mask.

All attention from the crowd was on the mirror as the cane struck her with a loud thwack right across the middle of both her cheeks, causing the witch to flinch slightly. Hermione's hand flew to her throat with surprise as she watched the line across the witch's backside go from bright white to hot pink in the matter of a second. That hit had been hard, and the witch hadn't make a sound. Dismay flooded Hermione when Britt's voice rang out strong. "One. Thank you, Master."

Another blow struck slightly lower than the first, another line bloomed quickly. "Two. Thank you, Master."

This continued and Hermione began to wince with every hit. Disappointment coursed through her when she realized that she could never live up to this performance. Not any time soon, anyway. She had been foolish to think Snape would want her. Of course he didn't, not when he could have a witch like this. She felt a tear trickle behind her mask and cursed it silently. She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, willing herself back in control.

It wasn't until the twelfth strike that Britt's voice started to quiver. Hermione couldn't blame her, she was positive she would have been a bawling mess if she had been in the other girl's shoes. Each strike had been harder than the prior, the last one had made an audible whistle as it flew through the air before landing. A ripple of quiet whispers started as the crowd watched the redhead endure what was clearly a very painful punishment. Her face was red, her body had a sheen of sweat on it, and her voice was extremely weak after the fourteenth strike.

Hermione watched in a mixture of unease and respect as Britt seemed to pull strength from within herself with the last two strikes as evidenced by her voice becoming stronger. Her eyes looked determined. Her bum, on the other hand, clearly displayed what she had endured. Swollen red marks were abundantly visible in the mirror. Hermione could not believe the witch's face was dry from any form of tears.

After the last strike, Britt closed her eyes and heaved a deep breath out as Snape gently rubbed her bottom. A slight upturn to the corners of his mouth told the audience he was pleased. It was known by most members that these two scened together frequently and this public display proved how compatible they were. Hermione was no fool – she saw it, too. Her eyes fell downcast. She felt defeated. How was it she could feel so beaten when she had never even been in the game? _Because you thought you were in it._ She had been deluding herself.

She was startled when she felt a warm hand on her lower back, and looked up into the face of Lucius Malfoy. Hermione despised the sympathetic look in his eyes, hated that he seemed to know how she was feeling.

Snape's voice brought her back to the scene in front of her. It was soothing and sultry. "You have pleased me, my pet. You have pleased me enough to earn a reward. You may ask of me one thing and if I find it agreeable, I will grant it."

Britt's eyes were still closed as a light smile played upon her lips. "Please, Master. Please fuck me."

Snape had stood back and was watching her, his arms crossed in front of him, the cane nowhere to be seen. "Fuck you with what, pet?"

"Your cock, Master. Please fuck me with your cock and make me come." Hermione froze in shock. She _definitely_ did not want to see this. Lucius stiffened beside her, and she welcomed his soft words in her ear.

"Let's walk away, Doll," he said quietly. "I can see you're upset." For some reason, though, Hermione was unable to tear her eyes away and she didn't answer the man standing next to her.

Instead, she waited for the answer from the man on stage. Snape pursed his lips slightly and she hoped for a moment he would refuse. Her hopes were quickly dashed. "I will grant you your wish. However, you will not come."

There were a few chuckles in the crowd as Britt's face fell. Surprisingly, Hermione felt a bit of outrage for the woman on stage. All that, and she wasn't even going to be allowed to come?

Severus wasn't smiling, but his eyes danced with delight at the submissives torture. "Ah, Britt. I told you I would grant you one wish. You requested two. I will fuck you with my cock and I will enjoy it." He paused here and his eyes purposely sought out Hermione. He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Perhaps, next time you won't make such an…amateur mistake." Hermione's face drained of all color and her knees trembled. She vaguely heard Lucius swear softly under his breath and the hand at her back became a supportive arm around her waist.

Snape's message had been absolutely clear: He did not want her. He abhorred her inexperience. What they had shared had meant nothing to him. She felt her lips pull down and clenched her jaw to force back her hurt sob. She did not break eye contact with him, she would not let him see how he affected her. He returned his attention to the witch on stage.

Britt's face showed no emotion except for the slight bulge of the vein on her forehead, which made her frustration – and likely humiliation – clear.

Hermione averted her eyes as Snape quickly stepped behind the woman and unfastened his trousers. The mirror had disappeared giving the audience a side view or a view from the front, depending on where they were standing. Severus ran his fingers along Britt's quim, stroking her wet folds before removing his hardened length from the confines of his clothing. He kept himself fairly well hidden from the crowd, and Hermione refused to look. Hearing was enough.

He positioned himself and slid into Britt quickly, eliciting a moan from her desperate lips. His mouth fell slightly open and he paused briefly before pulling back and sliding forward once again. As his movements quickened, and became more forceful, the redhead moaned and grunted with each thrust. Hermione turned her face into Lucius' shoulder. She hated that this upset her so, hated that Lucius was witnessing her torment. She was grateful for his kindness, however.

After many agonizing minutes, it was suddenly quiet, and Hermione chanced a look back up at the stage. Snape had not made a sound but was still behind Britt, apparently finished. Britt let out a soft whimper as he unsheathed himself, obviously leaving the poor witch in a desperate state of need. The stage went dark and the audience broke out into enthusiastic applause.

Hermione turned her face to Lucius. "Well, that was intense," she said softly, glad her voice betrayed none of her emotion.

"Doll," he said softly, and she flinched at the sympathy in his voice as the volume of the crowd rose around them.

"It's okay," she said quickly, forcing a smile to her face. "Listen, I knew he didn't want me. I guess I was just still a little hopeful he might change his mind." She was pleased to find herself in perfect control. "I just felt like he was trying to prove something to me up there. Isn't that silly?" She let out a very convincing chuckle.

Lucius gazed down at the girl, who was putting on a very good performance full of false bravado. It was taking a lot of effort to control the fury he had with his friend. Little did Granger know, proving something to her was exactly what Snape had been doing. Even after the bloody talk they'd had the night before.

Lucius had his own plans, though. Something he knew that would throw Snape off his mind games. It was being put into effect in _three…two…one…action._

"Hey, there, Granger!" Draco swung his arm around Hermione's shoulders and Lucius had to stifle a snort as her eyes went from resolute to glacial in mere milliseconds.

"Malfoy," she drawled sardonically, shrugging off his arm.

"So that was hot. I'm pretty worked up." He winked at her and flashed a dashing grin at his father. "Scene with me tonight?"

Draco watched in amusement as Hermione wrinkled her nose. "No, thank you," she said simply. Lucius had to give it to her – she was being polite. Draco had a knack for bringing out the girl's deepest loathing, and she had been able to keep her usual sound of utter contempt out of her voice. He knew that took real restraint on her part.

Draco started chattering in his normal friendly and playful banter that he used when he flirted with women, and Lucius scanned the crowd. Triumph filled his gaze as his eyes landed on Snape who was making his way through the audience. _Act two,_ Lucius thought. Between himself and Draco, Hermione was blocked from Snape's view. The man was unknowingly heading straight towards her.

Lucius pinched Draco gently on his elbow as Snape drew near enough to hear the conversation.

"C'mon, Granger," Draco said sweetly. "Give it a go…you know with our personalities it would be a dynamic, volatile scene. I bet I could get you off at least half-dozen times."

Lucius actually did snort with that over-exaggerated proclamation, which caused Hermione to look up at him before she answered his son. She froze when she saw Snape, and couldn't help the visual that popped into her head of him taking the beautiful redhead from behind. Jealousy overcame her reason. Lucius grinned to himself, he could practically read her mind. _And scene,_ he thought.

A hard glint of determination filled Hermione's eyes. "You know what, Draco?" she said pleasantly. "I'd _love_ to scene with you." Her eyes never left Snape's and she felt a thrill of satisfaction run through her as the man's face darkened perceptibly.

"Excellent!" Draco said, pretending not to notice this exchange as he caught his father's eye with a gleeful grin. "Let's go upstairs, I know just the thing!"

Without gracing either of the older men with a goodnight, Hermione allowed Malfoy to lace his fingers through hers and pull her through the crowd. She couldn't help one last glance over her shoulder at Snape and felt utterly wicked when his face showed anger as she willingly followed Draco away from him. Then, she turned herself around and left him behind.

Less than five minutes later, however, she was feeling an awful sense of apprehension. What the bloody hell had she been thinking? Draco Malfoy?! He laughed as he rounded on her and saw the look on face.

"Merlin, Granger, I'm not going to murder you," he chortled. "Do calm down." She bit her lower lip as he pulled her through one of the many doors off the long hall. She let out a startled gasp.

Lucius had shown her some of the rooms on the upper floor, but not all of them. Therefore, she was utterly taken aback when Draco pulled her into what looked like the Forbidden Forest. He dropped her hand and watched her, mirth dancing in his eyes as she spun in a stunned circle, eyes darting everywhere.

"Pretty cool, yeah?" he asked. Merlin's pants, Christmas had come early for him! He could NOT believe he was about to scene with Granger. Ever since he had caught wind of her prowess on the Wizengemot floor at the Ministry, he had kept half an eye on the vivacious, influential witch and her tight little body strutting around in those sexy professional clothes. He'd had more than one wank to the thought of her Dominating him. However, when he found out last night she was a submissive…bloody fuck. Game fucking on. He really hoped she'd be up for his scene idea…his father had seemed to think she would be.

What a lucky strike tonight had been, too, with Lucius requesting him to assist with a little set up to knock Snape down a peg. He mentally shook his head. He had no idea why his Father thought scening with Granger would rile up his Godfather, but he wasn't going to think about Snape now.

"So…Granger," he said, grin not leaving his face. "Ever been interested in a consensual non-consensual scene?"

He watched her freeze and her gaze flew to his. He could have come in his pants as he watched the fire in her eyes bloom with excitement. Cockily, he didn't wait for her answer. "No purposefully harmful magic," he directed. "Safewords?"

"Let's just go yellow and red," she answered flippantly. Internally her heart was starting to race. Hermione had regretted agreeing to scene with him the moment she had left the basement. She knew she had only agreed to this to make Snape jealous – as if that were even possible. This was a distraction and Hermione was well aware that it could be a catastrophe in the making. The minute Draco suggested the role play scene, however, she felt her insides flip from disappointment and apprehension to anticipation and excitement. It had been a long-standing fantasy of hers to do such a scene. Even _before_ she had discovered the BDSM world.

"Perfect." He began to stalk her and her eyes widened slightly. "C'mon, Granger. Let's play a little."

Hermione's breath started to accelerate as she looked into his lovely eyes. He _was_ freaking gorgeous. As shallow as it was to her, it helped the situation immensely. No, she didn't like him much, but he had been right. For this kind of scene, the differences they had always shared would only feed the flames of excitement. What were the words he had used? Dynamic and volatile. _Oh…yes,_ she hissed internally. She could feel herself grow wet. It was a shame her dress would most likely get ruined…but at the moment she couldn't find herself caring overly much.

He knew she had fallen into the role play even easier than he had hoped when her facial features moved into a mask of disgust as she crossed her arms over her chest. Draco was elated with her tremble of excitement and the defiant sparkle in her eyes. "If you want to fuck me, Malfoy, you're going to have to force me."

"Well then…" he drawled lazily. "You'd better run and hide, witch. I'm not taking no for an answer."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To see photos that inspired the cocktail dress in this chapter, find us on FB or Tumblr:
> 
> Facebook: www.facebook.com/snowand.lissa.7
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> Tumblr: LissaDream AND SnowBlind12


	8. Chapter Eight

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** Chapter Eight **

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_“If you want to fuck me, Malfoy, you’re going to have to force me.”_

_“Well then…” he drawled lazily. “You’d better run and hide, witch. I’m not taking no for an answer.”_

Draco watched her slip her mask off and into a hidden pocket in her skirt appreciatively. He’d much rather prefer to see her face. He barely had time to react as Hermione kicked off her kitten heels, spun on the spot, and sprinted into the woods. _Mm_. He tilted his head to watch her bum as she disappeared into the trees, a grin splitting his handsome face. He’d give her a bit of a head start. She was such a tiny witch…and he didn’t want this to be over too quickly, what fun would that be?

His cock was already hard and he reached down to adjust it before lazily moving through the trees himself. Granger was a clever little thing, so he kept his eyes watchful and his arms loose at his sides, wand dangling from his right hand. “You won’t be able to hide from me, witch,” he called out with a chuckle. “I know this place like the back of my hand.”

He caught the ruffling of a bush with his peripheral vision, but didn’t turn to it. He wasn’t sure if she would try and attack him, or if her goal would be to just to avoid him. Either way, he knew he’d need to be on high alert. Granger was probably the most intelligent witch he had ever played this particular game with.

Out of nowhere, a golden jet of light came flashing at him, he dove, avoiding the Confundus charm by mere millimeters. _Sneaky little bitch!_ Draco clenched his teeth and shoved himself hastily up to his feet before plowing directly through the bushes he had seen ruffle only moments before. “Come out, come out, wherever you are…” he sang in his deep, resonating voice.

A flash of purple to his left caught his attention and he broke into a sprint after her. His heart started pounding with excitement in his chest as she gave a little yip of surprise at his proximity.

“Fuck!” Draco hear Hermione hiss, and it was hard to suppress the laugh that bubbled out of him.

“What’s the matter, Granger?” He lazily flicked his wand, shooting a tripping jinx at her feet. He was impressed when her wand flashed behind her and she deflected the spell. “Aw, baby, c’mon!” he called out. “Let’s just have a little fun.” He couldn’t keep the stupid grin off his face as she darted beneath some limbs. Damn, she was fast…and agile.

“In your dreams, Malfoy,” she screamed back, firing an unknown jinx at him. He deflected the spell and shot another tripping jinx at her, which she side stepped before sprinting around yet another tree.

Draco made a speedy decision and spun quickly, going around the opposite side of the same trunk. It worked, she slammed directly into his chest.

“Gotcha!” he exclaimed victoriously as she yelped in shock, her eyes flew up to meet his as she pulled back away from him, but he held fast to her upper arms.

Draco had to admit, the witch was fit. She tried to squirm and he almost lost his grip on her when he spun her around. Clasping her to the length of his body, he pinned her arms to her sides as she fought against him. “This is going to be…so…fucking…sweet,” he breathed huskily into her ear before nuzzling his nose into the tender flesh just below the sensitive lobe. Draco’s teeth came out to graze the nape of her neck, tongue following to taste her skin just as a searing pain tore through his foot.

“Fuck!” he bellowed. Eyes watering, he watched her trip slightly before scrambling up and away from him again. Draco quickly composed himself before brandishing his wand at her, using a hex that caught the hem of her skirt and jerked her back. She fell spectacularly, gasping in surprise and cursing up a storm.

He started walking over to her cautiously, still holding his wand loosely in his palm. “That was a slick move there, Granger,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. “Try that again, and you’ll be very, very sorry.” He watched in amusement as she glared up at him, the jinx still holding her skirt to the ground.

“Fuck you, Malfoy,” she ground out. He grabbed a handful of curls piled at the nape of her neck and yanked her head back. Hermione gasped in surprised pain, her right hand coming up to close over his fist. This only made Draco tighten his grip and pull her head back more firmly as he slowly lowered himself into a tall kneel beside her. Hermione’s left hand swung out forcefully, but he caught her wrist with ease.

“I intend to do just that, sweetheart,” he sneered.

Hermione’s heart was beating in triple time. Her scalp was screaming in pain where Draco twisted his hand forcefully into her hair. _Fight!_ her mind screamed. So, she pushed against his grip on her wrist, and twisted her torso, trying to get a knee into his gut.

“Tut, tut, tut, Granger,” Draco purred in a sickly-sweet voice. His mouth descended on her painfully arched neck. She gasped at the sensation, her knickers at this point were soaked through. She cried out as he sank his teeth into the tendons where her neck met her shoulder and she brought her other knee up, clipping his hip hard. Draco grunted in agony, releasing both her hair and her wrist and she twisted up onto her knees. The hem of her dress tore audibly as she ripped it from the jinx that was holding it to the ground.    
  
A second later, she was on her feet only to pitch forward as a hand wrapped firmly around her ankle, her hands and knees slammed into the ground. She felt abrasions from the forest floor as it dug into her palms and knees, and kicked out with her other foot without looking back. The strike made a satisfying sound followed by a stream of expletives that made Hermione grin like a feral cat. She pushed herself to her feet again and took off, only daring to chance a look over her shoulder after she had run a few meters. Squealing when she realized Draco was practically on her heels, she pushed herself faster. Being stocking footed was definitely a disadvantage. Her silk stockings had to be in shreds.

She cried out again as Draco’s strong arms caught her around the waist, her momentum was such that her feet flew off the ground, still moving forward. His hold slid up and hooked under both her arms and around the back of her head in a full Nelson. Hermione immediately jammed her arms down causing the tall blond man to grunt in surprise, but she was not strong enough to completely get out of the hold. Instead, she pushed hard off the ground, throwing her head back in attempts to throw him off balance and connect her skull with his face at the same time.

Draco managed to avoid her head butt, but the momentum of her weight forcefully coming back at him made him lose his balance. Unfortunately, it did not make him lose his grip and he immediately rolled with her, forcing her onto her stomach. He quickly swung his legs so he straddled her bum.

“No!” she cried out, trying to buck him off her. She could feel his hard length pressing into her backside and nearly groaned aloud with the need of it. This was too fucking hot…and fun. So much fun.

“Oh, yes, Miss Granger,” he growled through gritted teeth as her delicious little bottom squirmed against his throbbing erection. He moved one hand to press down on her back between her shoulder blades, smirking when she grunted with discomfort. She attempted to roll just as he reached down to undo his belt and he had to steady himself. “Now, now, now, Granger,” he heckled, planting his face in her neck again. She could feel his hot breath on her ear and shivered with the pleasure of it. The length of his muscular, heavy body over hers made her tummy flip with excitement.

Hermione was not done fighting, though. When he went back into his one-armed hold while attempting to undo his pants, she bucked again and a sound of pain slipped past his lips. Momentarily, she felt a respite of freedom and scrambled with her hands against the forest floor, determined to crawl far enough out from underneath him to get to her feet again.

Just at that moment, Draco rolled her again and she squeaked with surprise. She immediately threw her claws at him, and if he hadn’t flinched she surely would have clawed the side of his face.

“You…little…bitch,” he rumbled. Again, he was straddling her, this time around her stomach. She took another swipe at him and he scrambled to catch her wrists in each of his hands, shoving them above her head when he succeeded. She cried out in frustration between clenched teeth, her eyes squeezing shut. Draco took both wrists in one hand and pressed her arms into the soft earth. “Aw, baby,” he was breathing hard. Leaning down, he pressed a surprisingly sweet kiss to the underside of her jaw. “Did the big bad Slytherin finally get his snakey hands on you?” he teased, nipping her pulse point with his teeth. His other hand slid down the curve of her arm and over her breast, squeezing painfully. He could feel the pebbled nipple underneath his palm and hummed his appreciation. Merlin, she had lovely breasts.

Hermione sucked in a sharp breath and attempted to buck him off her by rolling her hips hard. The motion only served to give her quim a bit of friction, making her groan. She felt gooseflesh break out over her chest, and her nipples went rock hard when Draco slipped the palm of his hand in the neckline of her gown. He gripped the neckline hard in his fist and her eyes flew open in shock as he tore the fabric brutally, a loud ripping noise ringing through their surroundings.

“Ah, braless,” he grinned at her as she bucked against him again. Kicking her feet desperately, she tried to pull her arms out of his bruising grasp.

“Get. Off. Malfoy.” She punctuated each word forcefully, this only made him laugh.

“Not on your life, Granger. I can’t wait to slide my cock up your slick little cunt.” He dipped his head and pulled a nipple roughly into his mouth.

“Ahh!” Hermione screamed as the pleasure pain tore through her tummy. She bucked again and Draco used the opportunity to wedge a knee between her legs, forcing her thighs apart. His one wandering hand slithered down her hip and shoved up the material of her skirt as she attempted to force her legs back together.

At this point, Hermione knew she had lost. He was huge compared to her and his death grip on her wrists was becoming painful enough that she stopped tugging against it. She moaned loudly as his tongue laved her sore nipple before leaving a wet trail on his way to her other breast. He pulled the tip into his hot mouth, sending another shot of pleasure to her womb. She let out an obnoxiously loud whimper even as she continued to kick her feet and roll her core. They both knew her attempts at escape were becoming less enthusiastic.

“Fight me, Granger,” he taunted against her chest as his free hand finally managed to get his belt undone. “You don’t want me to fuck you…do you? Your childhood nemesis? Or are you just a little slut, begging for it?”

He glanced up with a leering grin, expecting to see a look of outrage. The look was there, but Draco was absolutely stunned when she spat full force in his face. His hand shot up, slamming under her chin to lock her jaw shut before he’d had time to think the action through. Hermione’s teeth clacked together audibly and he felt the pull of surprised breath through her nose. Her eyes grew wide and for a moment, she looked a bit frightened.

Draco watched her carefully, slowly releasing her jaw. “ _Don’t_ do that again,” he hissed, trying to stay in character. He hadn’t meant to scare her. Dropping his head, he used his shoulder to wipe her saliva away. “Do you understand?”  
  
Hermione nodded a bit frantically, the fear slowly trickling out of her eyes. They stared at each other for a second, breathing heavy. Draco was starting to feel nervous that he had taken it a step too far, but then she tilted her head back and tried to jerk her hands out of his grip again. _Game back on._ He grinned exultantly as she continued to attempt to escape him.

He struggled to maintain his hold on her while fighting to get his pants open. Finally, he managed to get them undone, almost groaning in relief as he freed himself from his boxer shorts. Contemplating how best to get inside her without her getting away, he decided on fast and hard. He slid his free hand up the inside of her left thigh to grip the lacy thong she was wearing. It took very little effort to shred the thing, getting it out of his way. Draco’s hand immediately went to her quim where he found her dripping wet. He groaned at the feel of her silken core, giving her a triumphant grin as she let out a breathy moan. Rubbing her quickly, he dipped his middle finger into her warm heat as she squirmed beneath him.

“Stop!” she screamed. “Get off!” Fucking hell, she was really into this. He had never had to fight so hard during a con/non-con scene. Still…no safewords. They were definitely a go. He shoved his hips into the cradle of her thighs, forcing and keeping them apart. Then he grasped himself to line his cock up with her entrance. She stilled and he watched her eyes grow, her pupils were blown wide. Lust was clearly written in her features. That was all the green light Draco needed, he thrust inside of her.

Hermione let out a long, low moan, which covered Draco’s visceral snarl of pleasure. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he filled her. The buildup had been absolutely incredible, but all fight left as sensation engulfed her. Once in, he knew she wouldn’t be able to get away anymore, so he released her hands. They immediately came down around his shoulders, her nails digging into his upper back. Draco snarled his appreciation as the bite of her claws sent sharp waves of pleasure down his spine. He rammed into her again, thrilled when her hips tilted into him and met his force with her own. He cursed through his pants of breath when the spongy feel of her cervix engulfed the head of his cock deliciously, reveled in the sounds she was making. Her pussy was so effing tight, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever been with a woman as tiny as she was.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck!” she whimpered, head rolling, nails scraping down his shoulder blades.

He hitched her leg up and pressed it back into her chest, the new position allowing him to sink deeper, grazing her g-spot. She hummed her praises thickly, the sound coming from deep in her chest.

“Shit, Granger,” Draco panted, slamming into her again and again and again. Her jaw clenched as the coil in her belly grew tighter and tighter. She was so close to coming. She needed…

“More!” she demanded, puffing heavily as she rolled her hips up, meeting each crash of his hips with hers. He swore again and redoubled his efforts, speeding up and thrusting harder all in the same movement. He couldn’t rip his gaze away from her face, she was absolutely gorgeous. Her eyes were closed, her lower lip caught between her teeth, and her brow was furrowed with concentration and painful pleasure.

Draco whipped his hips harder, all the while fighting the rise of his bollocks. He was determined to at least get her off twice. He watched with immense satisfaction when Hermione’s jaw slackened and a throaty, feral cry was ripped from her chest as she came, hard. _Best orgasm face ever!_ Merlin, she was one hot piece.

“Fuck, yes!” he cried out, pumping through her orgasm, her inner muscles were trying to milk him dry. Draco clenched his jaw and held on. When she went limp under him, he rolled out of her. She looked at him, confused when he brandished his wand. He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her up. Hermione’s astonished expression quickly darkened with renewed lust and she started to fight with him again. “I don’t think so, little witch,” he snarled, pulling her body into a tall kneel. Draco released her hair only to quickly capture her wrists before twisting her arms around her back.

Hermione’s heart was beating almost painfully fast, but seemed to kick up another notch as she heard Draco mutter an incantation and felt a rope bind her elbows behind her back. She grunted with a bit of discomfort and continued to try and get away from him as he scooted behind her, straddling the outside of her legs with his and pressing them together. He pushed her forward, angling her head so her face was pressed into the mossy ground and held it in one place while he positioned himself again. Her lower body was still in a tall kneel, bum high in the air. His excitement was palpable as he rammed back into her.

“Oh my fucking god!” she cried out with the forcefulness of the thrust as need and heat coursed through her belly. He wasted no time setting a brutal pace. With her legs forced together, there was very little friction on her clit and all she could feel was his (impressive) prick ravaging her pussy. Every thrust forced gasps and grunts out of her, and the blond man behind her was vocal as well. Draco released her face after a minute and grasped her hips in his hands brutally, his pace increasing further. This only served to make her orgasm build with alarming speed.

Hermione felt the bind around her elbows release and her arms quickly fell to the forest floor, palms pressing down. She attempted to push back against him, he laughed evilly.

“Do you really think you’re getting away that easily?” He hooked an arm around her waist, effectively trapping her upper limbs to her sides again, and pulled her into an upright position. As he sat back on his haunches, Hermione gasped at the new sensation while he continued to torment her with shallow, hard thrusts of his hips. Draco’s other hand came up under her chin and around her throat, gently squeezing her neck. It sent a thrill of delicious fear through her and deluge of honey coated him where they were joined. She whinged her bliss, he cursed his. It was a perfect duet of pleasure.

Hermione’s head fell back onto his shoulder as she pulled her hands free, bringing them up to hook around each of his. Her nails bit into the soft flesh of the backs of his hands. She pushed back, meeting his thrusts in this position for the first time. He snarled, the hand around her waist dove deeper, seeking out her engorged clit.

She hissed as he strummed the distended bud of pleasure, her movements became erratic and jerky. Draco knew he was about to throw her over again. He reached down and grasped one of her breasts, expertly catching a nipple and rolling it in his fingers. “Fuck, Draco!” she screeched, jerking against him hard before stilling.

He felt another wave of satisfaction pour through him as she yelled his name and howled with her release. Draco was so enamored with her response, and was still raging hard. He forcefully rolled her again, slamming her down on her back, causing her to let out a strangled “Oof!”

Barely giving her time to breath, he hooked both her knees with his elbows and practically folded her in half as he pushed into her a third time. “Bloody hell, Hermione,” he hissed appreciatively as her back and neck arched. Her muscles sucked him in greedily as she cried out hoarsely. He wasn’t going to last very much longer, and was pretty sure he wouldn’t be get her to a third climax. He decided to make it up to her some other time. Her inner muscles clenched and fluttered around him and he was lost, roaring his release. One last brutal thrust and he stilled, emptying himself into her, cock throbbing again and again and he spilled his seed.

Slowly, as he came back to himself, Draco let go of Hermione’s legs. They slid down his body and fell limply to the sides of his hips and thighs as he collapsed onto his forearms over her. He dropped his forehead to hers, breathing heavy. Their eyes locked and instantly they were both laughing through their breathlessness. He brought up a hand to smooth some of her destroyed hair out of her face. Dropping a light kiss to her sweaty forehead. Slowly, he slid out of her and rolled, loving the little whine of pleasure that broke through her lips. Draco settled on his back next to her, still breathing heavy. After a moment, he rolled onto his side to face Hermione, and propped himself up on his elbow.

Her eyes were closed, her face flushed from their extreme exertion. Once a few minutes had passed, her eyes fluttered open. A slow, self-satisfied smirk crossed Draco’s face and Hermione couldn’t help her answering grin.

“That was bloody amazing, Granger,” he said smugly.

“For once in my life, Malfoy? I actually agree with you,” she snorted and he laughed, wiping a bead of sweat away from his temple. Hermione stretched, pointing her toes and lifting her arms up over her head, testing her muscles. She felt pleasantly sore and very satisfied.

Unable to miss the way Draco watched her breasts appreciatively, Hermione rolled to her side a bit. “You’ve done this before.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah, quite a bit, actually.” He answered her with no preamble. “I love con/non-con scenes. They’re usually a blast.” He paused, eyes glittering with humor, still dark with lust. “You, however, just put up the best fight I have ever had.” Draco observed her through sparkling eyes as her face split into a pleased smile.

“Really?” she asked.

“Dead serious.” He rubbed his nose with the back of one hand before moving it up to tousle his hair. “Even better?” She raised her brows in inquiry. “You are by far the tiniest witch I’ve ever played this particular game with.”

Her smile turned into a grin to rival the Cheshire cat and she rolled so she could settle onto her back again. Draco did the same, heaving a satisfied sigh. They lay there in silence for an age before he gave a reluctant groan. “I suppose we should get cleaned up,” he intoned begrudgingly.

“Yeah,” she agreed unenthusiastically. “I’m gonna need the loo...and maybe a healer,” she added with a laugh.  “I need to try and fix my dress, to,” she snorted and then began laughing in earnest as she pushed herself into a sitting position. “You know one of the first things to cross my mind when you suggested this scene? ‘It’s a bloody shame my dress is going to get ruined. I like this one.’”

Draco joined in with her laughter while he pushed himself to his feet. “I’m sure you can transfigure it to get you through the rest of the evening.” He reached out a hand to Hermione, pleased she didn’t hesitate as she reached up to grab it. Draco pulled her up.

Once she was standing, he flipped her palms over and examined the small abrasions. Looking down, he could see her knees and elbows were scraped up as well. He looked her in the eyes and lightly cocked his head with a playful shrug. “Oops?”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “I take it you’ve become a dab hand at healing charms, seeing as this is one of your favorite pastimes?”  

He gave her a sheepish grin. “Well, no. Honestly, Granger? I don’t think any of my other conquests have ever had a scratch. They gave in too easy.” He looked over his shoulder. “Be right back.”

Hermione watched him dash to a small cabinet that had been charmed to look like a large tree stump near the door, smirking when she saw the claw marks on his shoulders and back. He was back at her side in six large strides and gently lifted her hands. After casting a cleansing charm on them, he dripped the dittany potion over her wounds. Hermione’s skin tingled as they both watched the new skin quickly grow, leaving the marks looking a few days old. He did the same to her knees and elbows.

There was a slight pause before Draco grinned boyishly at her. “Turn around and bend over.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

He laughed. “There’s no way your arse is unscathed.”

She let out small giggle and turned around, flipping up her skirt as she bent over. Shockingly, this felt more intimate than anything they had done in this room. She found her mind internally scolding herself for becoming aroused. She felt the tingling of the medication as he dropped her skirt.

“Your arse is magnificent, Granger.” He complimented. She could only answer with another grin. What did one say, exactly, after a successful pretend rape?

Making a last second decision, Draco reached out and snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her into his chest. He tilted her chin up with the fingers of his other hand. When she just looked at him quizzically, he startled them both by bestowing a soft, tender kiss on her upturned lips. He pulled back slowly. “I kind of always wondered what that would feel like.”

He seemed to have stunned her into silence. Her only reaction was her eyes growing wide. “It’s really too bad I prefer being a bottom, Granger,” he leered, breaking the sweet moment by letting her go. “We could really have something, here.” His voice was sardonic and Hermione threw her head back, bubbles of her tinkling laughter filled the air.

“Draco Malfoy,” she choked between her hysterics. “We would _kill_ each other.”

“Yeah,” he said with feigned regret. “You’re probably right. C’mon, I’ll show you the nearest loo.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the exit.

“Uhh, wait.” She pulled against him, forcing him to stop and look back. She took her bottom lip in her mouth and smiled as her eyes darted to between his shoulders. “You uh...you need healing, too.”

His eyes grew big as he snapped his head to look at one shoulder and then the other. “Damn, Granger. Another first!”

“Come here,” she demanded with a little force.

His eyes twinkled with mirth as he handed her the potion. “Ohh, Granger. I love it when you talk that way. Sure you aren’t a Top?”

She chuckled as she healed his scratches and then handed the dittany back to him. “I’m not, promise. I’m a Top all day at work.”

He grabbed her hand again and led her to the door, stowing the dittany in the cupboard before they moved into the hall.

As they left the forest room, Draco dropped her hand and placed his palm on her lower back. They were both quiet, each still reeling from the excitement and endorphin rush from only moments before. Hermione’s mask was intact and back on her face, but her dress really was in shreds. She would need to head straight for the Ladies to try and transfigure it into something she could wear for the rest of the night.

Draco was close, his hand still on her lower back. He was feeling slightly protective of her at the moment, and if he were being honest with himself, still turned on as hell.  The place was packed, much more so than before their little adventure. Numerous groups of people were coming up and down the hall, in and out of various rooms.

Unable to resist, he slid his hand down and cupped her arse, giving it a squeeze. She startled before shooting a seductive gaze back at him. The look of desire and lust in her darkened brown orbs solidified the return of his hard on _. Bloody Hell_. Taking a gamble that she was feeling the same, he used both hands to spin her and press her chest against the cool stone wall next to them. His body molded to her back, the heat from his smooth skin permeating the thin, torn fabric of her dress.

He tilted his head down into the crook of her neck. “I want to fuck you, again…here…now.” He was slowly pressing his erection back and forth into her sacrum.

When he felt her bum press back into him and heard her let out a soft moan, it was all the permission he needed. He bunched the material of her skirt, getting it out of the way. One hand snaked around to her front and slid down between her legs where he rubbed her dewy folds, finding her more than ready.

Hermione whimpered with needy desire as his hand stroked her deliciously. She ground her quim into him, feeling like she would combust at any second. Their scene had been electric and intense, and she was ready for more. Her cheek pressed against the cool wall, her eyes open, she was hyper aware of her surroundings. They were in a dark alcove, but they were not hidden from view. She had her mask on, though – there were only three people in the building who knew who she was.

Feeling brazen and wanton, she whispered. “Fuck me, already, Malfoy. I want it.”

He let out a growl as his hands rubbed up her inner thighs, lifting her and spreading her open. He pressed his hips against her, finding it easy for his hips to hold her light frame in place. One of his hands reached around her neck, holding it lightly, but dominantly, as his other maneuvered his length out of his jeans.  He slid into her easily and let out a guttural snarl as her tight walls welcomed him again.

Too turned on to control himself, he pumped her furiously and grinned as he heard her grunt her pleasure with each thrust. “Gods, you’re a good fuck, Granger.”

Her words were choppy, her breath being forced out with each assault of his hips. “You’re not so bad yourself, ferret.”

His smile widened at her tease. “Ok, beaver. Mock me all you want.”

She smiled softly, remembering her engorged teeth the same year he had been turned into a ferret. His hand reached around, rubbing her clit as he continued to pound. His drives were coming faster and more erratic.  “Come, witch,” he whispered demandingly as he bit down on the sensitive flesh below her ear.

Her response was instant, it thrilled him how responsive her body was. _There’s that third one I mentally promised you_. Draco’s voice rumbled with satisfaction in his chest as her walls clamped and her belly clenched. She felt her body go limp as he continued to propel himself into her before letting out a loud moan, breath hot on the back of her neck.

His heaving chest and body stayed pressed up against her, continuing to hold her to the wall as they both worked to calm their erratic breathing. After a moment, he slowly helped her slide to the floor and shifted her dress down to cover her backside. The loo was only a couple steps away. She turned back towards him, only to find him watching her with a playful smile. “That was hot, Granger. Any time you want a repeat, just let me know.”

Hermione returned his smile with one of her own. “Yes, hot and very…unexpected.” She surprised him when she reached up and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his mouth down to hers. She kissed him fiercely, slipping her tongue past his lips. Confused, but delighted all the same, Draco gripped her waist and returned the erotic kiss.

“You know,” she said, after slowly softening and ending the kiss. She pulled away from him, amused. “I always wondered what that would be like.” She was definitely teasing, returning his words back to him. Draco let out a chuckle, shaking his head.

She winked. “Thanks, Malfoy.” With that, she turned and dashed into the loo.

Neither witch nor wizard was aware of the looming Dominant in black who had watched the entire exchange with growing rage and frustration.


	9. Chapter Nine

* * *

   **Chapter Nine**

* * *

Lucius watched Snape’s gaze follow his son and Granger out of the basement with narrowed eyes. _Mmhm_ , he thought. _I got you, you bloody asshole_.

“Nice stage performance,” he said aloud to Snape, effectively snapping the man out of his angry glare.

“It was, wasn’t it?” Snape slipped easily into his cool, detached demeanor. “Britt was exquisite, but she always is.”

“Did she really mess up in your private session earlier this week? Or did she just want a public punishment?” Lucius crossed his arms over his chest.

“The latter.” Snape couldn’t help it, he grinned. “She a bit masochistic, if you ask me. It’s quite…lovely”

There was an awkward pause. “Why don’t we go somewhere private and discuss the elephant in the room?” Lucius suggested quietly, his voice hard now that the pleasantries were done.

There was another tense pause. Without saying anything, Snape strode off, making his way through the crowd. Lucius took that as his cue to follow.

He was confused when Snape bypassed the corridor that led to his office and private chamber and headed up the stairs. Then he realized what was happening. Snape was going to give in to some voyeurism, apparently. Lucius knew that Draco preferred the Forest Room for the scene he had hoped Granger would join him for tonight and told Snape so. They parked down the hall from the room, and stood in silence – Snape brooding, Lucius thinking about how best to advance their discussion. He needed Snape to confide in him so he could help his friend through his mental block with the girl.

It was quite some time later; at least a half hour, when the two twenty-something-year-olds came out of the fetish room, holding hands and grinning. Snape’s gaze darkened perceptibly. Lucius could see the frustration and rage on his face quite clearly.

His attention moved from his friend to the young couple. He had to admit they looked lovely together – tall and lean with tiny and petite was always a pleasing combination to the eye. Hermione’s dress and stockings were in tatters. He grinned to himself; Draco had clearly gotten his way with her. It was obvious she had attempted to drape the torn bodice so her breasts were covered, but they were playing peek-a-boo with all the people coming and going. Draco’s hand moved protectively to her back and she gave him a friendly smile over her shoulder.

Lucius’ eyebrows rose and Snape swore softly when Draco suddenly spun Granger into the wall, hiking up her skirt.

Whispered words fell from the girl’s lips and judging by Draco’s reaction, it was obvious what she had said. Lucius started to get hard. God, damn, she was sexy as hell. Severus’ muscles stiffened; his arms folded tightly over his chest. A few people watched the minor exhibition scene as they moved through the hall, but Lucius was sure the couple could not see him and Snape from where they were.

When they had finished and Granger reached up and yanked Draco’s mouth to hers, he had to grab Snape’s shoulder to keep him in check. “It’s just a scene, my friend,” he hissed. “They would never work well together. Draco and Hermione are much too different…and you know Draco prefers to sub himself. Keep yourself in check. She has as much right to play as you do.”

Snape said nothing, but the tension left him. Once Hermione had disappeared into the loo, and Draco down the opposite end of the hall with a ridiculous grin on his face, the man in black spun on his dragon hide heel and stalked away. Lucius followed at a slower pace, giving Snape some time to sort his thoughts.

Snape had other plans as he stalked through his club to his office, slamming, warding, and silencing the door behind him. He knew Lucius wanted to chat, but he had no desire at the moment.

He wandlessly summoned a decanter of whiskey and tumbler. Pouring himself a finger or three of the amber liquid, he set the decanter down with a loud clunk on his desk before taking a large swallow of the burning liquid.

He was frustrated.

He was irate.

He was bloody jealous as fuck of his Godson.

And of his best friend.

He didn’t know what to think. He didn’t really understand what he was feeling. It made absolutely _no sense_ for him to fancy Hermione Granger. Not just as a submissive, as a woman. As potentially more.

_She would never go for it. You’re an old, ugly bastard. She’s…beautiful, and young, and vivacious, and successful._

In the back of his mind he knew this was all projected self-depreciation. She had sat on his dining room table stark naked just a week ago, agreeing to fuck him with wild abandon. He was the one who had walked away.

“Fuck!” Snape pressed the cool crystal cut tumbler to his forehead.

He’d ended the scene, causing her undue embarrassment and uncertainty. He had taunted her during her first time with a woman. Cock blocked the first Dom willing to meet her. And tonight…Snape squeezed his eyes shut.

Lucius had just made him all the more determined to push her away after his little spiel the night before. Why? Just to prove he was still the bloody bastard everyone always expected him to be.

This had been so wrong, though. The look on her face when he had told Britt to not make an amateur mistake … it had been awful. Hermione was too sharp to miss the point he was making. She had been destroyed, shattered. He had _hurt her_ without laying a hand on her.

In the moment he had felt smug and oh, so very clever. He just wanted her to back off, to not pressure him. Not that she _had_ been pressuring him. _She’d done nothing but open up to you and try and please you, you fucking idiot!_

She had said she trusted him. _No one trusts Severus Snape._ He jumped when he heard the sound of shattering glass, it pulled him out of his thoughts and he realized he had wandlessly shattered numerous glass items around his office. He swiped a hand down his face. She certainly wouldn’t trust him anymore, not after what he had done.

He growled loudly before brandishing his wand to send out Reparo charms. He slammed back the rest of his whiskey before unwarding his office door and prowled out past a shocked Malfoy senior. Snape crashed through the doors of the security portal, instantly scanning screens. Locating the object of his desire at the bar, he stormed past a stunned, silent Sebastian, and again past Lucius.

Snape had to give Lucius credit, he left well enough alone, but he knew his best friend very well, though. He knew Lucius would give him space and be no closer than fifteen paces behind while he was a mood like this.

He came up behind her. Hermione had transfigured her dress so the bodice draped over her breasts instead of fitting snugly. She no longer wore stockings and the back hem of the skirt was torn and frayed.

Snape didn’t say anything right away. Her scent hit him like a brick wall, and even though he had come less than two hours prior, his cock filled instantly. What the bloody fuck was it about this little chit of a thing? How could someone so petite cause so much fuss?

“I wish to speak with you, Miss,” he rumbled in her ear. Hermione spun around, a hand settling over her heart. He had startled her, he didn’t care. _Fucking mask._ It made it much more difficult to read her expressions.

“Alright, sir,” she answered automatically _. How did she do that?_ Women called him sir all the fucking time, it never made him feel this way. It made the problem in his pants intensify. Snape grasped her by her elbow and steered her through the bar until they were outside the door of his private quarters. He paused – maybe this was a bad idea. All he could see in his mind’s eye was her naked on his table. He hadn’t been able to eat at it since. He had to do this, though. Not talking to her would eat him alive, otherwise.

“After you.” He opened the door; she stepped inside.

There was no preamble, he just started talking. “I owe you an apology, Miss Granger.” Snape’s bloody heart was racing. Had he ever been so fucking nervous?

“Oh?” Hermione looked utterly bemused, a small smirk crossing her face.

“Don’t be cheeky,” he snarled, instantly wiping the smile from her features. “Fuck!” Snape spun away from her, running a hand through is short cropped locks. “I’m sorry!”

“You’ve already said that, sir,” she said in a demure voice, her eyes on the ground.

“Don’t be submissive right now!” he growled. “This is hard enough as it is.”

She looked at him with burning eyes. Her expression was slightly confused and her tone came out impatient. “I don’t understand what you want from me! What _exactly_ are you sorry for, sir? From where I am standing, you really haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Shit.” He wiped his hand down his face for the second time that evening. “I’m sorry for being an ass, how’s that?”

“Explain, please, sir.” Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’ve not been nice.”

“I don’t believe nice is part of your personality, sir,” she quipped, that infuriating smirk returning to her face. He wanted to kiss it away. “You’ve never been particularly _nice_ before and have never felt the need to apologize for it. What’s different now?”

“Fucking hell, Hermione!” he snapped, slicing a hand angrily through the air. He certainly didn’t need her snark _now_. “Would you let me get this out?!” She nodded once, her face becoming very serious.

“I was demeaning, I made you feel insecure. I’ve acted like no Dom should with a new sub. I’m sorry.” That was the third time in under two minutes he apologized to her. He couldn’t remember the last person he had apologized to, yet she had received four from him in a week.

The room was silent for a moment, he chanced a look at her. Hermione’s face was guarded, but she watched him appraisingly. “I forgive you,” she said softly after a few moments of silence.

“I – what?” She had completely derailed him. He had been prepared to beg for her forgiveness.

“I forgive you, you made a mistake. You’re owning it. You’re human.” She shrugged. Hermione couldn’t ignore the thrill his words caused. Snape was obviously beating himself up over this. Was he in fact interested in her? The thought made her bold.

“Have you changed your mind?” she asked.

“Have I changed…? About what?” He sounded legitimately confused.

“You said I pleased you last Friday,” she started slowly. “So much so that you’ve reconsidered being my Dom?”

Snape wasn’t prepared for this question. Why was she always so bloody precocious? Even as a child she had been like this, it was infuriating. Calmly, and as gently as he could, he answered her, “Miss Granger, I don’t train submissives.” He regretted her immediate disappointment. It made his heart ache.

Snape reached out and cupped Hermione’s cheek with one hand, brushing her cheekbone with his thumb. Instantly, his fingers tingled with the contact. “Come talk to me again after you’ve been trained.” They locked eyes as she drew in an unsteady breath. Did she lean into his touch subconsciously? Did her skin flame to life as his did? He wasn’t brave enough to ask either question.

“I will,” she finally answered.

“Promise?” Snape’s voice was unnaturally husky. He wanted to kiss her. He wouldn’t, though.

“I promise,” Hermione murmured. She wanted to kiss him. She wouldn’t, though.

He slowly released her face.

“Goodnight, sir.” She smiled at him before slipping back through his door, closing it gently behind her.

“Goodnight, Hermione,” he told the empty room.

* * *

 

Lucius watched Hermione leave with a small smile on her face only about ten minutes after Snape had closed the door behind them. This night was just getting more and more curious. He waited a couple of minutes before briefly knocking on the door. He didn’t wait for an answer, just pushed right in.  
  
“I fucked up tonight,” Snape said softly when Lucius came to stand by his friend. The dark-haired man was sitting on a couch, head in his hands, fingers dug into his hair.

Lucius froze, shocked. It was a cold day in hell, apparently. Snape admitting he had done something wrong was a rare occurrence.

“Tell me how,” Lucius suggested kindly. This was something they shared through the years; the ability to offload on the other without judgement. To talk out their issues with someone they trusted explicitly. To know they would always be forgiven by at least one other person.

“I was unnecessarily cruel,” Snape intoned. He rubbed his face with both hands.

“You were.” Lucius slipped his hands into his pants pockets and casually leaned a hip on the arm of the couch. “Why?”

“She terrifies me.” It was a whisper.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with the two of you?” Lucius did his best to keep the blatant surprise out of his voice. Fear was not an emotion Severus Snape expressed often.

Snape looked up at his friend and Lucius was again stunned to see the pain on his face. “I haven’t really figured it out, yet,” Snape admitted quietly. “All I know is that she was exquisite. She was kind and sweet and respectful and responsive, but there was an underlying connection that I haven’t been able to make sense of. Luc – she made me completely forget myself. I almost fucked her.” He furrowed his brow. “In our first scene! You know I have more control than that!”

Lucius raised an eyebrow. His friend had it worse than he realized. He ignored the twinge of regret in his chest, it appeared his thoughts of pursuing the girl himself was off the table. “You almost forgot your number one rule?” his voice dripped with cynicism. “ _Never sleep with a submissive during your first session._ That rule you’ve tried to get _me_ to comply with for years? Must have been one hell of a scene, Sev. Tell me more.”

“It was so bloody basic.” Snape fell back into the couch; his neck arching back into the cushions. “I had her strip, consent, take a submissive pose, then I asked her all the normal questions. I just…hadn’t expected her to be so…forthcoming. Her honesty was transparent, it was as extraordinarily refreshing as it was…disarming.  She…she told me she was grateful it was me behind that bloody mask. That she…trusted me.”

Lucius closed his eyes. Bloody hell, this was more complicated than he’d thought, and certainly more than he had hoped. No fucking wonder Snape was so messed up. There were very few people in his life that had ever expressed that sort of confidence in him. It must have been astonishing for him that Hermione Granger told him she had faith in him to do right by her. He was probably pissed at himself for screwing it up already. Lucius shook his head before moving the subject along. “You punished her. How did she mess up?”

Snape let out a mirthless laugh. “She didn’t really mess up,” he sighed. “I directed her to say ‘sir’ at the end of every sentence. Five spankings for each time she omitted it. She earned fifteen during our conversation. Twice because she got a bit emotional, once more because she was flustered when I let her know her mistake.”

Snape shook his head in bewilderment. “She took the spankings very well. Then asked for more. I used my belt. Then my fingers to get her off. I made her beg for her orgasm. She came three times in less than six minutes.” He paused and closed his eyes before saying simply, “It was incredible.”

Lucius observed Snape openly as the man’s eyes stayed closed while he recounted his tale. “I told her I wanted to fuck her and she agreed…but tacked ‘professor’ onto the end of that statement. It was as effective as a cold shower and threw my age and our past in my face. I froze, which made her feel insecure and that caused me to be angry with myself…” He trailed off. “She didn’t break her submissive persona. She was humble and understanding and caring. She fucking thanked me and kissed my cheek when she said good-bye.”

“And she asked you to train her?”

“She asked me if I would consider training her if she pleased me.” Snape sat up again and opened his eyes. The confusion and frustration he felt were evident in the lines on his face.

“Did she please you, my friend?”

There was a long pause where Snape buried his hands in his face once again. “More than you can imagine.”

“I agree that Miss Granger has been extremely…unexpected,” Lucius started after another long stretch of silence. “But Severus, you need to – if you’ll excuse my crudeness – shit or get off the fucking pot. Miss Granger is heading into dangerous waters. She needs guidance before she makes a mistake. You blocking suitors and riling her up is not helping, which is why I pushed Draco on her tonight and used you to manipulate her into the scene. She was safe with him.”

“I suppose I should thank you for that, then. For keeping an eye on her, protecting her from me,” Snape said begrudgingly.

“What are you going to do?” Lucius asked. “What did you just talk about?”

“I apologized to her,” Snape’s voice was raw. “She forgave me. I didn’t even have to beg.”  
  
“So you’re going to train her then?” Lucius was surprised when a wave of jealously swept through him.  
  
“I told her to come find me when she’s been trained. That I could not do it, and that I was sorry I couldn’t do it. Luc, I have never trained a sub and I’m worried I would want to be more involved with her than a training Master should be. I would prefer her to be trained by someone else. I would pursue her in the meantime.”

Lucius moved from the couch arm to sit heavily in a leather chair. Snape had just managed to astound him for what felt like the millionth time in the last ten minutes. He felt slightly nauseated. “What do you mean, pursue her? Are you interested in actually asking her out? A real relationship?” He couldn’t hide the vague disappointment in his voice. Until that moment, Lucius had not realized that he, too, was interested in Granger.

Snape did not seem to notice Lucius’ discomfort. It was an age before he answered. “Yes.”

“You realize that girl will not be a twenty-four/seven submissive, don’t you?” Lucius winced internally – was he really trying to talk his friend out of this? It had been … well, never. Snape had never pursued a _real_ relationship with someone. Sexual relationships, Dominate/submissive relationships, yes. But never a courting relationship.

“I wouldn’t want her to be, it would be tedious and tiresome,” Snape answered with a flip of his hand. He sat back and crossed one ankle over the opposite knee. “I decided a long time ago that if I ever found someone I was interested in pursuing an actual relationship with, I would only want her to be a sexual submissive.”

Lucius couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that last comment. He was about to answer scathingly, but stopped himself. This was something he should have realized. Snape was an intellectual. His trust was given only after the utmost care and consideration. He had a fiery, difficult personality that would take a strong woman to handle in a committed relationship. God only knews how many times he and the man had gone head to head, themselves. A lesser friend would have walked away from the stubborn, impenetrable man eons ago. Snape had a nasty temper and could be quite cruel. Granted, it was a hardened exterior that hid a soft underbelly. Unfortunately, most people didn’t stick around long enough to learn that bit of fact.

Lucius could begrudgingly admit that Miss Granger’s personalities – in and out of the bedroom – would be a stellar match for the man. He rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger. In that moment, Lucius knew he would step aside, he wouldn’t chase Miss Granger himself. His friend more than deserved a chance at happiness…a family? Evilly, Lucius had a bit of information for Snape. A bit of information that would show him exactly how serious Snape was.

“Do you want me to keep my offer to train her on the table? Or do you want her to find someone else if she so chooses?” Lucius asked.

“Keep it on the table,” Snape said. “Your being her training Master would only be something that could work in my favor.”

“Do you know Miss Granger’s end goals with this lifestyle, Severus?” Lucius spoke softly, taking the conversation in an entirely new direction.

Snape, who had been studying his blond friend curiously for a few moments gave a slight shake of his head. “We didn’t go over that in our conversation.”

“Hmm.” Lucius gave a slow, wicked smile. “She told Etan her end goal is marriage and a family. Is that something you’re willing and able to provide for her?”

If he had expected Snape to be startled, he was mistaken. The man only looked contemplative. Finally, he spoke, a bit of a sarcastic edge to his voice. “Well, it’s certainly too soon to be buying the ring, but I would not be averse to the idea of marriage and a child or two.”

Lucius let out an incredulous snort. “Since when?” he demanded, still laughing.

“Since…now.”

* * *

 

Hermione walked down the dark street, her heart racing faster the closer she got to her destination. Her day had been hell and all she could think about was escaping for a couple of hours. It was after nine, but if she could be home by midnight, she would be able to get enough sleep to make it through court the next day. She would never sleep if she didn’t work off some tension, though. Her Rabbit vibrator might do in a pinch, but she was hoping for better. She wanted…no, _needed_ …to scene tonight. Maybe Lucius, or Etan and Rose would want to play.

The minute she entered the club, she felt lighter seeing Johnathan. He was becoming a good friend. His eyes lit up as she approached the bar. Hermione hopped up on a stool and let out a heavy sigh as she looked around the packed club. It was much busier than she thought it would be for a Thursday night.

“Bad day?” he asked as he put an iced club soda with lime in front of her.  Hermione had not had alcohol in the club since Lucius had cautioned her against drinking and scening. Club soda with lime had become her favorite.

“Terrible day,” she exclaimed, trying hard to keep her anger at bay. “Another case of a wizard abusing a Muggle woman. And of course, she was obliviated, so I don’t actually have a witness to bring the necessary charges. I can only go by the official report.”

“Aww, Poppet. You need a hug.” He flashed her a huge smile and hopped over the bar, pulling her into a huge bear hug.

“Oompf,” she grunted and then laughed as he squeezed and lifted her off the floor.

“You give the best hugs! And yes, I needed that,” she said with a chuckle and a wide beaming smile.

Johnathan pulled back and looked at her. “Ahh, there’s my girl with the beautiful smile.” After a pause, he grinned knowingly and chuckled. “You need more than a hug, though, don’t ya, Poppet?”

Hermione blushed as she laughed and scanned the crowd. “Uh, well...was hoping anyway.” She didn’t see Etan, Lucius, or Draco. And she definitely didn’t see Severus Snape. Which was just as well because in the state she was in right now, there was no telling what she might do if she saw him. Probably just make a bigger fool out of herself than she already had.

She looked back at her friend. “Is Lucius here?”

Johnathan leaned forward so he wouldn’t have to yell over the crowd. “Nah, he takes Tuesday and Thursday nights off. He’s a busy guy. I don’t know how he manages running his corporation during the day and then coming here at night.”

Hermione nodded in thought. “Do Lucius and Snape own this place together?”

Johnathan nodded as he looked around the bar. Spotting thirsty patrons, he answered, distractedly. “Uh, yeah. They both own it. Lucius put up most of the money and Snape puts in most of the hours.” He hopped back over bar. “Talk later, Poppet!”

* * *

 

Severus Snape sat in his office, watching security camera number two with great interest. Hermione was back. It had been a few nights and he had started to wonder if she was losing interest. Perhaps Draco had managed to scare her off. He still felt a fire pit of jealousy coil in his stomach when he remembered their little hallway display.

He kicked back in his chair, resting his dragon hide boots on his large desk as he continued to watch the object of his interest sit at the bar. Snape rolled his eyes as the sentimental fool that was his head bartender hopped over the bar and pulled his witch into a hug.

 _Merlin and Morgana, when the fuck did I start thinking of her as_ mine? He had to swallow another lump of resentment as that mawkish fool was on the receiving end of a magnificent smile. A smile she had certainly never bestowed upon his flawed and miserable self. Then again, he had never done anything to deserve such a smile. What had he ever done to earn such a gift? Teach her, demeaning her in the process and then Dominate her, only to push her away when she swallowed her pride and asked him to train her. Not once, but twice! He would be lucky if she ever looked at him again, much less agreed to coffee.

Whatever the boy had said to her had lightened her mood considerably. He watched as she sat at the bar and looked over the crowd. He observed with greater interest as a new Dominant, a Dominant who many of the submissives had been blathering about the past couple of weeks, noticed his witch and made a move.

* * *

 

Hermione was beginning to relax. She watched Johnathan as he hustled behind the bar, serving drinks to the demanding crowd in the charged atmosphere. She giggled when she noticed him freeze and grip the bar, his body tensing. She laughed because she saw his Dominatrix, Clarise, smirking at the end of the counter with what looked like a remote control. She had a playful gleam in her eye as she hit buttons and watched his reaction.

Hermione felt a ping of jealousy. Why couldn’t she find a Dominant who wanted to train her? Who wanted her to be his and only his? _Lucius, Hermione. Lucius said he would train you._ Once again, their scene flew through her mind. It had been incredible. Just…fuck. However, with one touch of her face, Snape had been able to make her think of naught but him all week. It was frustratingly infuriating he had such a hold over her.

Hermione continued to sip her drink as she swiveled her chair around and leaned back against the bar. The skirt she was wearing slid up as she crossed her legs, revealing a bit of thigh. _You’re wearing a mask, go with it._ Despite the fact there were practically naked women and men walking around, she felt as though she looked a bit desperate. She still wasn’t quite used to being somewhere that being on display was encouraged.

Her eyes opened wide and her belly clenched when she noticed an exceedingly handsome man with dark hair and blue eyes watching her. He caught her glance and gave her a boyish, crooked smile. She took another nervous sip of her drink as the man in black leather pants and a black t-shirt approached. She couldn’t help but notice his body looked anything but boyish. He was toned, firm, and muscular.

He stalked up to her and she felt an instant, magnetic attraction. “You’re new,” he said with a deep, sexy timbre. It bothered her that she immediately compared it to Snape’s silky baritone. Close…but no cigar.

She bit her lip. “Not _so_ new. I’ve been around the proverbial block once or twice,” she purred in response. _Where the hell did that come from? And who are you kidding?! You’re_ very _new!_

His smile grew bigger as he held out his hand. “Daniel, but my friends call me Danny. _You,_ my little seductress, can call me sir.”

Hermione felt he was being a bit presumptuous. She smirked and raised a brow as she took is hand. “My friends call me, Doll. But you can call me, Mistress.”

She couldn’t contain her laughter as he flung his hand to his heart and made like he was going to fall to the floor in complete devastation. “Mistress?”

“No, not really. Well, my friends really do call me Doll, sir.” She tacked sir on the end as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled softly.

Danny stood up tall and looked down at her, cocking an eyebrow. “Hmmm, a playful submissive. I should spank you for that, you know. You nearly broke my heart in two.”

* * *

Moving his boots off his desk, Snape pulled his chair closer to the monitor to get a better look. Damned if they weren’t hitting it off. It was very obvious they were into each other. Their body language screamed flirtation. _Who is this guy?_ Snape was regretting not having paid more attention. He vaguely remembered the guy’s application. He was in his early thirties and new to the area. He was newer to the scene, too, only involved for about a year or so. He came recommended by an acquaintance of Lucius’. No one Snape knew, though. He had never formally trained, however. _Which is why you’re feeling nervous._ Forcing himself to let it go, and realizing he had work to do, he began looking over the accounts payable as he kept tabs on her distractedly.

Thirty minutes later, he felt another pang of disappointment as he watched the young couple continuing to enjoy each other’s company. He watched as Hermione smiled, stepping closer to the man. Snape swallowed heavily as the man moved closer to her, as well. _Mine_ , was all he could think. He forced himself to look away. _Not yours. Not yet, anyway._

* * *

Hermione began to laugh. “What, really? No!” She placed her empty glass on the bar.

Danny was still laughing. “Wait, can I buy you another drink? What are you having?”

Feeling brazen, Hermione looked up at him and replied, “Well, if you want to stand by the bar all evening and talk, I’ll take a glass of elven wine.”

Not missing where she was taking this, he leaned closer, a flirtatious grin quickly morphing into a predatory glare.  “Hmmm, and if I perhaps have something else _entirely_ in mind, what would you say then?”

Hermione bit her lip. “I’d say, no thank you to the drink. I don’t drink and scene.”

Daniel drew himself up taller and studied her for a minute. “You aren’t shy, Doll. You say what you want. I like that.” He crossed his arms. “So, how about it? Shall I grab us a room?”

Hermione’s heart began to thud. _Shit!_ What was she doing? She didn’t even know this guy! He was a _complete_ stranger. He hadn’t even been recommended to her. He was funny, though, and charming and nice…and she was really attracted to him. She glanced around the room. Looking for anyone she knew to see if they knew him or anything about him. There was no one. Even Johnathan had disappeared, probably to the cellar to get more booze.

Sensing her hesitation, he added. “You know what, it’s okay if you aren’t comfortable. You don’t know me.” He shrugged and smiled that devastatingly handsome crooked grin again. “I mean, I’m a good guy. You can trust me, but I totally understand if you’re uncomfortable.”

Hermione searched his face, seeing the disappointment in his eyes. He really was hot and she _did_ want to experience a scene with someone she didn’t have a history with. He seemed like a good guy. He had told her about his girlfriend, who had liked to play the submissive and how she had spiked his interest in D/s. He had told her how they had broken up and he had since scened with several submissive witches. He wasn’t vastly experienced, but he was far more experienced than she.

Throwing caution to the wind, she went with her gut. She looked up at him….

* * *

Severus put down his quill and his heart started to pound. “Shit.” He watched as the new puppy held Hermione’s hand and headed out of the camera’s view. His eyes scanned the monitoring screens in front of him. He watched other screens with trepidation as Hermione was led downstairs, clearly heading to a private play room. He began to feel uneasy. He didn’t know this guy and assumed Hermione didn’t either. Lucius was right. He had predicted she would become reckless, fall into the sub frenzy that so many newcomers were prone to. Snape stood up, contemplating putting a stop to it. She would be livid, but he would know she was safe. She _would_ be safe.

 _She’s a grown woman, Severus_ , he cautioned himself _. A grown fucking Gryffindor woman, heading into Merlin knows what._ He growled his frustration as he forced himself to sit back down. He knew he needed to leave her alone. He had made enough mistakes where she was concerned. If he intervened now, he’d lose his chance completely. As she was led into private room number four, he willed himself to look away. Forcing himself to not think about what that room as set up for.

* * *

Danny led Hermione into the private quarters he had been eager to try. “So, Doll. Let’s set some limits and share safe words.” The door closed as Hermione stepped in behind him. She watched as he pulled out a sobering potion and drank it. The act of him taking the potion without her asking him if he had been drinking increased her confidence level of her choice to scene with him.

Hermione looked around the room. There was a whipping bench, a wooden horse, and a couple of chairs. Her focus was drawn up as she noticed tracks on the ceiling with ropes and chains suspended from them. On the walls were various spanking implements. Her curiosity was peaked when she saw the cane, her mind went back to Severus and how he had enjoyed using it on Britt.

“So, Doll. You okay with spanking? Suspension?” Danny leaned back against one of the chairs, his arms crossed.

Hermione bit her lip. “Spanking is fine. I’m not too sure about suspension, though. I’ve never done it.”

His eyes lit up. “Ah, excellent! I get to be your first! You’ll love it. I’ve been practicing and have become quite good.”  
  
She gave a slight, nervous nod. “Okay, I’m willing to give it a try.”

“Excellent. Any injuries or physical ailments I should be aware of? It’s to do with the suspension, you know. So I don’t aggravate anything.”

Hermione nodded. “Uh, no.” Her trust in him continued to build. He seemed very conscientious about safety.

He smiled. “What about penetration?” Hermione wasn’t sure about that. Before she could answer, he reassured her. “No penetration unless I ask you and you say yes. Is that acceptable?”

Hermione exhaled as the tension left her. “Yes, that sounds good.”

“So, Doll. From here on, you are to address me as sir. Got it?”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“I’d like you to take off your dress and your bra…and your mask, if you don’t mind. You can keep your panties on.” He smirked. “That is, if you’re wearing any.”

Hermione hesitated briefly before slipping her mask off, but realized if the wards had allowed him downstairs, he had signed the same confidentiality and NDA forms she had. Pulling the dress over her head, she draped it over one of the chairs. She slid her bra down her arms after she unhooked it, tossing it next to her dress. She kept her gaze down submissively, but could tell his eyes were all over her body as he began to circle her.

“You are exquisite, Doll.” He paused in front of her, lifting her chin up. “Safe wo..?” His eyes widened in surprise and he swallowed heavily. “Oh Merlin, you’re…you’re Hermione Granger!”

Hermione met his eyes carefully. “I’m Doll. Just call me Doll.” She had worried this might be a problem. It really sucked to be so recognizable. She held her breath, waiting for him to answer. Danny nodded nervously and Hermione smiled kindly. “My safe words are red and yellow, sir.”

Letting out a sigh, he seemed to regain his confidence. He walked around her and behind her, speaking in a low timbre, his voice seductive. It sent a shiver down her spine when he pressed himself against her back. He kissed her bare shoulder. “You really are quite lovely, Doll. Thank you for submitting to me. I promise to make you feel good.”

Hermione was getting turned on with the reverberation of his voice and the way his eyes caressed her body appreciatively. She pressed her bottom back into his hip.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chastened with a small slap to her thong clad bottom. “You are not to move unless I tell you to.”

He walked around to the front of her. “I would like to start off our scene with a soft kiss. May I kiss you, Doll?”

Hermione felt a flutter. For a Dominant, he was very sweet. “Yes, sir.”

His hand lifted her chin once again and she closed her eyes as he leaned in, touching a gentle kiss to her mouth. Hermione internally sighed. It was nice. He had soft lips.

“Walk over to the bench and lean over it. You have a gorgeous ass and I can’t wait to spank it.”

Hermione quickly padded to the bench and leaned over it. She could hear him walk to the wall and take down some items. She wondered if he would cane her. She cringed as she thought of the red stripes on Britt’s bottom from Snape’s thorough caning. _Who are you kidding! There’s no way you could handle that!_

“I’m going to warm you up with some soft strikes from a fur flogger.”

Hermione closed her eyes and gripped the side of the bench as the fuzzy flogger began to strike her lightly. He was being very gentle, and after a minute or so, she wished he would turn it up a notch. She heard him shuffle behind her. “I’m going to use a leather flogger on you now, Doll.”

He began to strike her with the new flogger and Hermione was disappointed when he didn’t put much force behind it. It didn’t hurt at all, and wasn’t very arousing. She started to feel a little frustrated. It was almost like he was _too_ nice. She wanted some heat, she needed some Dominance.

After a couple more minutes of the boring flogger, she couldn’t take it anymore. “Sir, you can spank me harder.”

“Ahh, Doll likes it rough.” Hermione rolled her eyes internally as the strikes became a little more intense. It was better…not quite all the way there, but definitely better. She thrust her bottom out a little in encouragement and his strikes once again picked up a little more strength.

Just as it was getting good, he stepped back from her. “Stand up, Doll, and walk to me.”

Hermione’s frustration level and desperate need for the relief she was seeking was making her agitated. Knowing she needed to stay submissive, she watched as he took rope and measured it out by wrapping it around her waist, between her legs and around her thighs. Perhaps the scene would pick up now.  
  
Danny took the rope and made some knots before grabbing his wand and waving it over her. Ropes suddenly engulfed and crisscrossed her stomach, and came between her legs before wrapping around her thighs. Another wave of his wand and Hermione was suddenly lifted into the air, suspended from the ceiling, her belly facing the ground. Ropes coiled around her chest and her shoulders, pulling her arms back behind her. Her calves were drawn up as well, with her legs slightly spread. A bit of trepidation filled her, she didn’t particularly like that he hadn’t explained to her what he was going to do. She had told him she had never done this before. Her nerves were on high alert and she instantly started to sweat.

Hermione found that the position was quite awkward and her shoulders weren’t very comfortable. Again, with no warning, the flogger was on her. As before, the strikes on her bottom were without much force. This was not going well, at all. She was starting to feel uneasy. Her left shoulder was starting to ache. Feeling awkward and uncomfortable as she hung there, her discomfort was only intensified by his pansy ass Dominance. “Sir, you can hit me harder.”

There was a slight pause and before Hermione could stop herself she said, “Would you use the cane, sir?” She knew she was topping from the bottom, but at this point she didn’t care. Apparently, Danny didn’t seem to care either as he simply did as she requested.

Hermione flinched when the first strike came down and she let out a puff of breath from the sting. _Fuck_! Again, some warning or prep would have been nice. Hadn’t Snape tapped Britt a few times before her first strike?

“You really like to be spanked, don’t you, Doll?” he mused from behind her as another sharp swat landed on her other buttock. _Ouch!_ She bit her lip hard to keep from crying out. Her shoulders, especially the left, were really starting to hurt and the rope was rubbing her left inner thigh almost painfully.

_Don’t be a wimp, Hermione! You can do this. Severus likes the cane! It’ll just take some practice._

A harder swat from the cane forced a shriek out of her without her permission, and then another landed in quick succession. It was really starting to hurt and she could tell Danny was getting into it - finally. “Your ass is gorgeous, Doll. So glad you like the cane. So many witches don’t give it a fair chance.”

Her eyes began to water as the pain was becoming unbearable. _You asked for it, Hermione!_ After the next hit, she couldn’t take it anymore and the word “Yellow!” escaped from her mouth.

* * *

Severus was trying not to think about what might be going on in room number four when the caution safe word alarm chimed. His eyes shot up and shear panic overcame him when he saw the charm was coming from room four. He leapt to his feet and was out the door before giving it a second thought.

* * *

The minute she had said yellow, Danny had asked her what she needed and switched back to the flogger when she asked. He was hitting her softly again, but she was realizing it wasn’t really the spanking that had been the problem – it was the ropes. Hermione could no longer feel her left leg or foot. The next hit came with a little more force that jarred her whole body. Her left arm pulled painfully and she was positive she felt something rip. Complete panic slammed into her. _This is wrong._ _Something is wrong!_ She couldn’t take it anymore as pain shot down her arm. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she cried out, “Red, red!! Fuck! Get me down!”

“Shit! What is it, Doll?” Danny asked with an anxious tone. He tossed the flogger to the floor immediately and snatched up his wand, quickly levitating her to the floor. The moment the levitation charm had hold of her, the tension on her arms disappeared. Unfortunately, the pain did not.

Hermione started to sob when Danny gently eased her into a tall kneel on the floor. When he released the ropes, she instantly pulled her left arm into her right to cradle it. The movement caused her to cry out softly.

“Oh, my god. Hermione? Are you okay?” Danny sounded almost frantic and he quickly kneeled next to her, trying to comfort and calm her. She wanted _anyone_ but him. Rationally, she knew this had not happened on purpose. A mistake had been made. She was terrified, though. Lapses in judgement were not something she was accustomed to. The whole damn thing had felt off from the moment he started flogging her, she should have trusted her gut and put an end to it. _Stupid, stupid!_ She gasped as she tried to move her arm.

“Danny, I think something in my shoulder tore,” she hiccupped through her discomfort and tears. He looked at her in horror for a moment before snatching up the rope and sliding his hands down its length. He looked like he was counting or measuring something in his head. After a moment he looked up at her, shame and guilt in his eyes.

“You made a mistake?” she guessed. It wasn’t said accusingly. She was calming now that she had kept her arm still long enough.

He was about to answer her when the door burst open. Danny sprung to his feet, surprised. Hermione jumped, which caused her to cry out softly with her pain.  
  
Severus Snape stood in the doorway, his eyes wild. The look changed into one of fury when Hermione promptly burst into relieved tears upon seeing him. Danny looked quickly between the two, confusion the prominent emotion on his face. He knew Snape was a co-owner here, but his anger wasn’t really called for. A mistake had been made, but he had followed safeword protocol completely!

“What happened?” The man’s voice was like ice.

“It’s okay, Severus,” Hermione said softly, quickly recovering from the fresh bought of tears. “It was an accident, I’ll be all right.” Snape felt a shot of liquid heat fill his core, it was the first time she had ever said his first name. It helped him center himself.

“Please tell me what happened.” His tone was still cool, but much less severe.

“I miscounted knots, I think the rope was too short.” Danny replied quietly. “Her arms were slung wrong.”

Snape swore and quickly moved to Hermione. Without preamble, he lifted her into his arms. Another wave of anger overcame him when she gasped painfully and hissed. “Drape her clothing over her, give her the mask.” Danny did as directed.

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I swear it was an accident.” Danny’s voice was laced with apology.

“It’s okay, Danny. I know you didn’t do it on purpose,” she gave him a weak smile as she slipped the mask back on her face, murmuring the sealing incantation. Then she buried her face in Snape’s shoulder and wrapped her right arm around his neck. Daniel watched in fascination as Snape curled her more tightly to him, whispering soothing words for a moment before returning his attention to Danny.

“Mr. …?” Snape asked gruffly.

“Rackliff. Daniel Rackliff.”

“Mr. Rackliff, please find Johnathan at the bar and ask him to give you an incident report. Fill it out. The next time you come, ask to speak with either myself or Lucius Malfoy. We will follow the accident protocol and follow up procedures,” Snape’s voice was stiff. “You’ll excuse us now.”

Danny inclined his head, watching with wide eyes as the tall, dark, intimidating, war hero left with Hermione Granger – brains of the Golden Trio – curled protectively in his arms.

* * *

 

 


	10. Chapter Ten

* * *

**Chapter Ten**  

* * *

“Danny, I think something in my shoulder tore.” Hermione hiccupped through her discomfort and tears. Daniel looked at her in horror for a moment before snatching up the rope and sliding his hands down its length. He looked like he was measuring something in his head. After a moment he looked up at her, shame and guilt in his eyes.

“You made a mistake?” she guessed. It was not an accusation, she could see on his face he was horrified. It hadn’t been done on purpose.  

He looked like he was about to say something, when the door was thrown open firmly. Out of her peripheral vision, Danny sprung to his feet, causing Hermione to jump. A jolt of sharp pain shot down her arm, making her fingers tingle when she moved. She whimpered. Severus Snape stood in the doorway, his eyes wild. The look changed into one of fury when Hermione promptly burst into relieved tears upon seeing him.

“What happened?” he demanded.

“It’s okay, Severus,” she answered softly, sniffling as her tears subsided. “It was an accident, I’ll be all right.” “Please tell me what happened.” Even though his face and tone stayed hard, his eyes had softened. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. Vaguely, she heard the men talking, but she couldn’t concentrate on anything they were saying. Snape had come for her. He had known she was there, had known she was in trouble, and he had come. Her whole body tingled with warmth.

It surprised her when he quickly strode over to her and pulled her into his arms. She cradled her injured arm, but hardly even noticed the pain. All she could feel was his hard body against hers as he held her protectively close. She felt her clothing being pushed at her, and the mask. She slipped it on distractedly, still gazing at Snape, transfixed.

Hermione was able to divert her attention long enough to assure Danny she knew it had been an accident before slinging her right arm around Snape’s neck and pressing her face into his shoulder. His arms tightened around her, and she sighed as she melted into him. Pure bliss.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he whispered against her temple. She just about groaned with the combined endearment and the feel of his lips so close to her skin.

“I’m all right,” she breathed, absentmindedly pressing a gentle kiss to his shirt, over his collar bone. “Now that you’re here, I’m all right.”

She missed the surprised breath he pulled in through his nose at her tender touch. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, tightening his hold on her. Then he turned his attention back to Danny and she allowed herself to drift.

* * *

“Where are you hurt?” Snape asked softly, setting her gently on the couch in his private quarters . Sweetly, he wrapped her in a blanket. Hermione gave him a smile, completely entranced with his concern and compassion. His sudden appearance seemed to have knocked all anxiety and frustration out of her body. It left her feeling as though she had taken a tranquility draught.

“My left shoulder,” she said calmly, watching his face carefully. Gods, she found him attractive. Once again, she knew his face was not a beautiful face – nothing like Lucius or Draco, who were truly beautiful men – but it was strong, hard, regal. Hermione sighed, she wanted to touch him, but was with it enough to know that would probably not be welcomed. “I think I felt something tear.”

Wandlessly, Snape held his hand out and a book came soaring into it with a thud. It was a medical manual. He didn’t speak with her, and Hermione was feeling too at peace to attempt conversation with him; she simply laid back into the couch cushions and closed her eyes. Snape paged through the book, seemingly unaffected by her presence. After a few moments, he closed it quietly and moved his glorious hands to her skin. She couldn’t suppress a small sound of pleasure even as his touch caused a slight twinge of discomfort. He caught her eye briefly and her tummy flipped at the undiluted lust she found in his dark gaze. She was suddenly extremely aware of how naked she was. The only thing she had on under the thin throw was her thong.

His face remained impervious to her, and she purposely moved her gaze away from his, focusing on the piled carpeting under her feet. Snape muttered a diagnostic incantation. “Just a bad strain,” he murmured, his breath caressing her and causing a few loose strands of hair to stir against her neck. She shivered as he drew a deep breath.

Hermione continued to study the carpet as she felt Snape slide his wand over her shoulder, rumbling the healing charm. There was a twinge of pain, followed by an intense heat. Just as the warmth started to become uncomfortable, it dissipated, leaving a pleasant tingling sensation. She let out a low breath of relief and rolled her shoulder cautiously, testing out the muscles.

“Ooh,” she breathed. “That’s good.” She looked up, her face lighting up with a stunning smile. Snape felt his breath catch. Merlin, she was beautiful.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Without hesitating, she reached up and cupped his face with the hand of her newly healed arm. She smoothed the pad of her thumb over his cheek.

Snape couldn’t help his reaction, he leaned into the tender touch with a languid sigh of contentment. People didn’t often give Severus Snape affection. He lifted his hand and encircled her wrist gently before pressing a chaste kiss to her palm. “You’re most welcome, Miss Granger.”

She had let out a little puff of air when he kissed her and instinctively leaned in towards him, eyes fixed on his mouth. Hermione glanced up at him, noting his hesitation. The air around them was charged with a crackling, electric current. It was just a brief moment, a slight pause, and then they moved at the same time. Their lips touched tentatively at first, and they drew simultaneous breaths in through their noses as an intense shift in the atmosphere occurred.

Hermione kept her mouth soft, lips slightly parted as he moved his surprisingly smooth and gentle lips over hers. Her belly tightened with delicious need and she tentatively slipped her arms around his neck, inadvertently causing the blanket to pool at her waist. It seemed that would be the catalyst for them, in this moment in time. Before either could register what was happening, he had deepened the kiss with a rasping growl that made Hermione mewl with delight high in her throat. She pulled herself closer to him. Large, warm, and calloused hands dragged themselves up her torso, splaying strongly around her ribcage as his thumbs found both of her nipples at the same time. She ripped her mouth away from Snape’s with a deep gasp, her head falling back. Taking the opportunity presented, Snape dragged his mouth down her throat and chest, questing to one perfect, waiting breast. He wasted no time sucking the hardened flesh into his hot, velvety mouth. Hermione sobbed with the sensation, the fire, the energy. The neglected breast garnered his palm’s attention, the friction delicious against the pointed nub of pleasure. His touch was unlike any other, and she lost complete control of her faculties.

She pulled her head forward, looking down at his dark hair bent to her breasts. It was so fucking hot, and GODS she _wanted_ him. She couldn’t help but tell him. “Please,” she begged softly, scoring her nails on the back of his neck. “Please, sir, I _want_ you!”

Snape didn’t answer her, and even though his mind whirled its warnings back at him, he could not argue with her. “Undress me.” His voice was gravelly and strained as he released her breasts. “Quickly, witch!”

Hermione had stilled at his command, half in shock, before she bolted into action. Fingers fumbling, she quickly undid the row of buttons on his black dress shirt. She actually swore aloud upon see his torso – defined, hard, gorgeous. She pushed the shirt off his shoulders, fingers caressing the outline of his hardened deltoids before running down and sinking into the dark hair that covered his chest, following the line that trailed from his sternum into the center crease of his distinct six-pack. Her hand strayed momentarily to caress a couple of scars that were scattered over his abdomen. She looked up into his eyes, her desire flaring hot. “You are bloody beautiful,” she breathed.

Her gentle caresses were inflaming his desire to a boiling point. Her words were completely unhinging. In order to hide his desire, he went with indifferent roughness. “Stop teasing, Doll,” he hissed. Her eyes flew to his upon the use of such a gruff tone; her pseudonym coming from him was also startling. Her eyes softened when she realized what he was doing. It seemed he was in just as deep as she was.

“Yes, sir.” Eager to please, she answered him quickly and dropped her hands to his belt. They both groaned when her touch grazed his obviously needy erection. Hermione was such a bundle of nerves and longing that she struggled with the clasp to the point Snape batted her hands away after a moment of fumbling. He undid the buckle with practiced ease, and didn’t stop there. Standing from the couch, he jerked his trousers down and kicked them off along with his shoes before reaching down to peel off his socks. This left him only in his boxers as he turned back to the petite young woman watching him with obvious hunger. Her gaze trailed down his body, taking in a narrowed waist – beautifully defined, a heavily jutting erection covered with black silk boxers, and thick, powerful legs. When she met his eyes again, he almost groaned aloud with her visceral reaction to his nakedness.

Reaching down to her, he jerked her up from the couch by her right elbow. The blanket was left behind. Making a split-second decision, he scooped her up and over his shoulder, his hand coming down to crack on her backside.

Hermione squawked her discomfort (she had just taken a caning, but he had not noticed those lines). She couldn’t deny that his show of brute strength and Dominance caused a deluge in her already soaked knickers. He strode across the room, bypassing the tiny kitchen and dining room to one of two doors. Throwing it open, it only took a few more strides before he unceremoniously tossed her onto the bed and divested himself of his shorts. She frantically hooked her thumbs into her knickers and rolled them down, arching her back and then raising her legs to pull them off. Before she had a chance to toss them away, he was on her. His hands glided up her silky-smooth legs, mouth on her stomach.

“Oh, fuck,” she whined out. Her arms reached up to grasp the pillow behind her head with two tight fists. He evaded her breasts, trailing his tongue up the valley between to her neck. Hermione felt his sharp teeth sink into her tender flesh at the same time she registered his heavy length laying against her groin. “Now, now, now,” she begged. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she should have been embarrassed by her demanding display of wantonness. However, her need was so great, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Snape complied without a second thought. He captured her mouth again, tongue diving deep as he guided his cock into her sopping pussy. He pushed in slowly and Hermione’s mouth went slack under his. Surprised pants punctured the powerful silence between them. It wasn’t until he had started pressing into her that she realized she hadn’t actually gotten a very good look at his cock.

It was immediately apparent that Snape was what she would describe as huge. The stretch was uncomfortable. When she thought there was no way she could feel fuller, he slipped in just a bit further. Her eyes were wide and locked to his face which looked pained with his pleasure. Finally, he was completely encompassed in her wet heat and let out a long, low breath. He searched her eyes, a bit surprised to find them wet.

“You’re…all right?” Their frantic passion of only moments before seemed to have stilled with the intensity of their joining. He had never felt so complete in his life.

“Oh, yes,” she mouthed. “Oh, Gods. You feel amazing.” It was taking a lot of effort for Hermione not to start sobbing with tears of joy. Had anything in her life ever felt so perfectly right? So wonderfully good? Slowly, Snape lowered his mouth to hers in a gentle, sweet kiss.

She opened for him like a flower, her tongue questing tentatively. He met hers with more confidence, sliding a hand under her head to tangle his fingers in her curls. Holding her head still for his plundering kisses, he slightly retracted his hips before pushing himself forward. Her head jerked back away from his and she found herself unable to breathe. His movement had stolen every action of her body – her breath, her mind, all her senses. The only thing she could focus on was where their bodies were joined and the rightness of its sensation. He moved again, and she whimpered as the heat that had encapsulated her entire being flamed into a white-hot pinpoint of perfect perception in her womb.

“Wrap your legs around my waist, Hermione,” he directed in a heavily strained voice. She complied immediately, also bringing her arms up around his shoulders and digging her nails in. The rumbling in his chest reflected her own feelings. This was…so incredible. “Move with me, love.” He pulled back and she almost wept with the loss. Hermione rolled her hips into him as he thrust into her and they both growled their approval. Then there was no more hesitation. He filled her again, and again. At some point he wrapped one arm under her back while the other stayed entangled in her hair. They joined their mouths again in deep, slow, penetrating kisses that matched the rhythm of their lower bodies.

It took little time – too little time – for Hermione to realize she was going to climax fabulously from vaginal penetration alone.

In the missionary position.

With no foreplay.

Her body sang with the knowledge there was a man in this world who fit her so perfectly, who made her feel so incredibly sexy and wanted and desired. “I’m going to come,” she gasped against his mouth as their bodies continued to move lazily together, reaching, seeking that utter blissfulness.

“Yes,” he hissed in return, kissing her again. Their tongues tangled in a tantalizing tango. His movements came just a bit quicker and he snapped his hips slightly at the end of each thrust. She hummed into his mouth, meeting his movements in flawless synchrony. “Come for me, Hermione.”

They were wrapped so tightly together that the movements were not brutal, could not be brutal. Every inch of their skin was molded to the other. For the first time in her life, Hermione felt like she truly understood the definition of love making. Her orgasm unfurled slowly and deeply before turning into such a powerful force she had to rip her mouth away from his. “Oh, God. Fuck! Yes, oh, yes! Yes! Yes!” she cried out passionately, her hips jerking into his as her nails dragged heavily down his well-defined, muscular back. “Oh, Gods, Severus…” She exhaled as he continued to move into her at a languid, fluid pace. Her eyes rolled back as a vibrating moan cut off her words.

Snape couldn’t take his eyes off the woman writhing with her pleasure beneath him. Her body bowed and she threw her head back, climaxing spectacularly with such unbridled passion it was awe inspiring. Hermione’s orgasm was so incredibly arousing that it had triggered his own release the moment she spoke his name. Never overly vocal during sex, Snape only let out a low, visceral snarl of ecstasy as her milking muscles ripped his seed from deep in his groin, bollocks clenching tight.

As they came back down from their mutual high, Hermione’s hands trailed up his back to tangle in the short locks on the back of his head. Insistently, she pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him long, hard, and deep. He felt himself floating away, melting into her, giving over to her. It was something he had never been able to do with any other woman in his life. The tightening in his chest was as welcomed as it was unwelcomed. Not removing the length of his body from hers, he moved just enough that he could clasp her head in both of his hands, his thumbs brushing her cheeks and smoothing the dampness from beneath her eyes.

Their gazes met and held, and he couldn’t help but return her soft smile. He leaned in to kiss her again, and reveled in the fluttering of her eyelashes before they fanned over her cheeks in complete acceptance of his lips to hers. They were still joined intimately, and her legs squeezed his hips as her arms wrapped even more tightly around his shoulders, pulling him to her even though there was no way they could get any closer.

Snape felt as though he could kiss her forever and never grow tired of it. She tasted like cinnamon and honey; her lips were like two moist pillows of perfection. Her little sighs and mewls made his stomach muscles clench and he was _not_ going soft. He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t needed at _least_ a fifteen-minute refractory period. Most of the time it was much longer than that. He hadn’t been a young man for many years, but he wasn’t stupid enough not to take advantage of the situation.

Slowly, he pulled himself out of her, delighting in her whimper of protest even though he never removed his mouth from hers. He couldn’t seem to unglue himself from her drugging kisses. He slid along her body, settling on his side. Hermione rolled into him, trailing her fingertips up his chest, taking a detour to tease a nipple, making him jump slightly.

Very reluctantly, she pulled back, unjoining their lips. “That was…” She trailed off, seemingly unable to find words. Snape understood completely. He had other ideas, though, besides talking about the incredible shag they had just shared. Mainly, he wanted to do it again.

“Roll on your side, sweetheart.” His voice was as low and silky as ever, only it was undercut with a raspy edge that caused her pussy to leap right back to attention. Was he ready to go again? Already? She glanced down, and her eyes widened perceptibly. Bloody fuck! Apparently, he was!

Snape almost laughed aloud at the expression on her face, but didn’t have time as she immediately scrambled into the position that had been asked of her.

He snaked one arm under her, pulling her back into his chest and then hiked her top leg over his hip. Slowly, he pushed himself back into her tight little cunt. It was just as exquisite as the first time, maybe even more so now that he’d had a taste. Using the arm under her to cup a breast and roll a nipple, his other hand spread flat across her taut abdomen and slid down, seeking her clit. It was hard and distended and she gasped lusciously when he used the pads of his first two fingers to swirl around its sensitive girth.

She angled her neck, so the back of her head rested on his shoulder, and her tongue and teeth came out to trail a line of fiendfyre down his jaw to the point of his chin. “You are so good, Severus Snape. So good. Fuck!” she groaned. Her words just speared him on. Where their first coupling had been frantic and turned slow and sensual; the second started slow and was quickly turning frantic. He pulled and twisted her nipples, rotating between the two, while his fingers plied the little bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. His hips thrust harder, and faster and she let out a little gasp of pleasure with each forward motion.

She was surprised when he moved to his back, rolling her with him after only a few minutes on their sides. She cried out as he sunk deeper into her with the reverse cowgirl position. Quickly, she reached back and planted both hands on his chest as they pressed their feet into the mattress, her thighs on the outside of his.

He set a grueling pace, whipping his hips into hers. His enormous cock was slamming into her g-spot so hard that she felt delirious with the pleasure, her eyes rolling back into her head. He sat up behind her and pulled her back against his chest, snaking one arm around to continue the playful torture of her clit.

Hermione’s next orgasm was barreling down on her. The only sounds in the room were their mingled, heavy breathing and her occasional cry or groan. “Ask permission to come, Miss Granger!” he demanded, and her head fell back limply. Oh, what he fucking did to her mind! Her body was on fire.

“May I come, Master Snape?” she exclaimed heatedly. “I’m so close, sir!”

He growled. “Beg.” She almost came right then and had to squeeze her inner muscles to prevent herself from cresting that final hill.

“Oh, gods! Please, please, please, may I come sir!” Why was this so fucking hot? Begging for her pleasure? She had thought she was _just_ starting to get there. Now she was there. She needed it, _needed him_. “Oh, _please_!”

“Come, Miss Granger.” The demand in his deep, commanding, tightly controlled baritone hurled her off the cliff of her passion and she came with a cry as he grasped her hips with a bruising fierceness and slammed himself into her.

“Severus!” The exclamation was a combination of a sob and hysterics. “Fuck, fuck, unnnggghhhhh!!!!” She jerked erratically, her vaginal walls fluttering madly as they gripped him like a vice. He followed quickly with his own growl of release, continuing to piston into her roughly. When their movements stilled, she found she could no longer support herself, and fell limply back into him.

Snape wrapped both his arms tightly around Hermione, pulling her snugly into him. They turned their heads at the same time, lips and tongues seeking out the other.

They lay that way, occasionally kissing, until he slipped out of her some time later. Both sighed a little with the loss. Hermione was sated, and completely and utterly knackered. She must have dozed, because the next thing she knew, she was being rolled to the side. As out of it as she was, she realized she probably needed to get going. She started to pull away only to have a muscular arm pull her firmly back into him.

“Stay,” Snape grumbled, nuzzling his nose into her curls.

She relaxed instantly. Nothing would please her more. Blissfulness permeated every pore of her being. She snuggled back into him, vaguely aware of a blanket being magicked over them both.

* * *

Snape woke to a soft voice swearing as Hermione searched for her beeping wand. He stifled a chuckle as warmth flooded his body. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so completely satisfied, nor could he remember the last time he had slept so well.

As all things, though, the magic was coming to an end. He peeked open an eye, seeing her dark silhouette through the door and a slight panic overcame him. She was leaving; she probably needed to get home to get ready for work. Would she come back tonight? Should he ask if he could take her out to lunch? He closed his eyes quickly and concentrated on keeping his breathing deep and even when he realized she was coming back into the bedroom.

“Severus?” she asked in a quiet voice. When he didn’t answer her, he sensed her making her way to the bed. “I have to go to work,” she breathed. Her voice was so low he had to strain to hear her. “This was … incredible.” She was quiet again, and he felt her fingers brushing a lock of hair out of his face. This was followed by smooth, cool lips on his forehead, nose, and then, finally pressing gently to his lips. It took every ounce of control not to grip her by her arms and pull her back into the bed with him. As it was, his cock stirred maddeningly. “I’ll come back tonight. Goodbye.”

He heard his door click softly. His confusion rose tenfold when a wave of melancholy engulfed him. _Now what?_

Hermione closed the door to Snape’s quarters gently, worried the short but sweet note she had left on his kitchen table would not be taken well. She should have woken him, kissed him good morning, and asked him to lunch. She paused only a few steps down the hall and glanced over her shoulder. Maybe she should go back. Uncertainty gripped her. _Get a grip, Hermione. This is Severus Snape. He’s complicated, he’ll probably appreciate the time you’re giving him today to sort things out. There’s absolutely no way that what happened last night doesn’t have him as riled up as you are. It was just … too … oh, bloody amazing. Merlin!_ She quickly made her way to the Apparation point outside of the club in the wintery air, pulling her cloak more tightly around her slight frame. She was home and done with her morning ablutions before she could wrap her mind around what had all transpired the night before. Shaking her head, she firmly pushed Snape out of her mind, so she could get on with her work day.

A work day that turned out to be the one that wouldn’t end. She was going to go insane. The morning had been easy because it had been packed with meetings and a short court case. Her afternoon, however, had been relatively free for her to do research and casework, and she felt like she was going to rip her hair out. Would it be stupid of her to go to the club early? She knew they were open as of five o’clock. _It’s four-thirty now. Finish this file and go._ She was worried about coming off needy or desperate, but… _Fuck it! Go!_

She tossed the useless file down and locked up her office over Flourish and Blotts. Quickly running across the street to the little sandwich shop she frequented for lunch, she had a light dinner and was grateful to see it was about a quarter after five once she had finished. Using the restroom at the café, she changed her clothing and used her wand to clean her teeth. (Which was not something she particularly liked to do, but it was helpful in a pinch.) With one last look in the mirror, she headed to The Dungeon.

* * *

Snape was sitting in his office, trying to distract himself from thinking about the night before when there was a soft knock at his door.

_Bloody hell, who’s bothering me now?_

His tone was impatient, his word was abrupt. “Enter.” He did not look up as he heard the door open, instead opting to stare at his ledger. This made it clear, in his typical passive-aggressive fashion, that whoever was at the door was being a burden.

“Uh, Severus? Can we talk?”

Snape’s breathing stilled in an instant. She was here, now. How had he missed her coming into the club? His face a mask of indifference, he turned and looked at her…and swallowed. Hard. _Breathe,_ he reminded himself.

“Miss Granger, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He tried to keep his focus on her caramel eyes and not on the low cut, thin strapped, silk dress she was wearing. A dress that caressed her breasts, hips, and waist. A dress that stopped at mid-thigh, leaving bare silky legs that led to a pair of spiked heels.

Hermione sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. “I …I wanted, well – was hoping, to talk to you. About last night?”

 _Fuck, I’m not ready for this!_ “Last night? What about it? I trust your shoulder is feeling better?” It was as though he was discussing the weather - as though last night held little interest to him.

Hermione’s eyes flashed with a glimmer of irritation, even as she felt the tell-tale prickle of tears in her nose. _So, this is how he wants to play it? Like it meant nothing? Bugger it all to hell. You’re here, ask him anyway!_ “My shoulder is fine, thank you, sir.” Her tone was now as indifferent as his. “I came because, I want…”

“Yes?” he inquired impatiently as she trailed off.

She stood up taller and just as she was about to speak, she changed her mind. Letting out a breath, she simply watched him for a moment instead. She shook her head, her voice resigned. “I don’t want to play your games, Severus. Last night...last night. It meant something, didn’t it? You felt it too, right?”

His face remained impassive. She stared at him for an age, waiting for a response. When none came, and his face remained the same impenetrable mask, she wanted to scream or sob. Neither was an exciting option. Her hands were at her sides, grasping the hem of her short skirt, trying to dispel some of her inner boiling frustration. _Fuck this_! She was about to simply turn around and leave, but something stopped her. The previous evening had not only been the best sex of her life, but there had been an emotional – and fucking hell, _spiritual_ – connection as well. The air had been electric, the ground had practically shaken! It was worth fighting for, even if it meant exposing some vulnerability on her part. She went for all out honesty. “You know what? I came here…I came here because I _felt_ something last night. I felt something…incredible… A connection I’ve never felt before. And I _know_ you felt it, too! Please!” She broke herself off, raising the back of her hand to press against her mouth, steeling herself. Severus’ face remained a stone mask, but his heart was racing. _She felt it too_! His mind was spinning, searching for the right response. _Now is the time! Ask her to dinner!_

“I thought…I hoped that that maybe you would agree to train me now.” Hermione’s words were soft, hesitant.

There it was. His blood ran cold as if she had splashed ice water on him. _I hoped that maybe you would agree to train me now._ It was all she wanted from him! She wanted Snape, the Dominant. Not Severus, the man. His disappointment was only outdone by his anger. Anger at himself for believing, if only for a second, that his world was about to change. Anger at her for dashing those hopes instantly. Anger at her for wanting no more from him than his commanding voice and Dominant hand.

His words were condescending. “Miss Granger, you _used_ to listen. You _used_ to retain what you had been told. Clearly, you no longer have the capacity to listen and learn.”

Snape stood up, now looking down on her, “I have told you. I. Do. Not. Train. Submissives!” She flinched with each punctuation of his staccatoed voice. The hurt on her face almost made him change his tune in the blink of an eye.

Hermione’s heart was pounding, her frustration and anger swirled within. There was no way he hadn’t felt what she felt, and she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to call him out on it. Her eyes narrowed, her voice was icy and trembling. “You know what, Severus Snape? You’re a coward. You can’t even acknowledge something so obvious, so…earth-shattering! You’re too scared to open yourself – ”

Her words were cut off when he took two steps towards her. Grabbing her under the arms, he pushed her back into the wall. His face was livid, his voice growling. “Coward? Coward, you say?”

Hermione gasped as her back hit the hard, stone surface, her eyes were wide with shock. His tone was lethal, his mouth close to hers, his onyx eyes piercing. Snape’s voice was dead calm, its timbre terrifying, yet horribly arousing at the same time. “You seem to have forgotten to whom you are speaking, Miss Granger.”

His face remained near, his mouth tantalizingly close to her ear. His breath against her skin sent shivers cascading down her spine. Hermione gulped and swallowed, her chest heaving. _Oh Merlin!_ His voice was hypnotic, despite its intent. “You think I’m too cowardly to…” His hands were planted against the wall on either side of her. He pulled his face back from hers, his eyes assessing her as they lazily moved up and down her form. His expression showed that he found her lacking. “Too cowardly to train _you_ , Miss Granger? Is that _really_ what you think?”

He pushed back from the wall, watching her reaction. He swallowed, and fought to maintain his control as he noticed the darkening of her pupils, the flushing of her delicious skin, the light sheen of sweat forming on her brow. He crossed his arms and looked down at her with his most commanding and Domineering glare.

He was unable to deny the stroke to his ego as she responded exactly as he knew she would. “I _choose_ not to invest my time with such tedious tasks because they _bore_ me, Miss Granger.” Snape gestured to the screens on the wall. “You see all those witches out there? More than half are experienced submissives. Submissives who already know how to please. Why would I waste my time training a witch to become what I already have at my disposal?”

Hermione looked at the monitors, her face falling. The expression was enough to make Snape regret what he had just said, but then he saw her face tinge an angry pink. When he looked to the screens, he knew why. Her jealousy thrilled him. Hermione glared at the security screens. Britt – beautiful, perfect Britt. Britt, who could take a proper public caning, had entered the club. Hermione watched with jealous rage as Snape caught the redhead’s image, a small smile on his face as he looked back at Hermione with a cocked eyebrow. He had made his point, almost too perfectly.

The competitive piece of her psyche absolutely refused to let him get away with this. She knew he was denying the truth, whether he would admit it or not. She pushed from the wall, her arms crossed in front of her. There was a defiant glare in her eyes as she looked up at him. “I could be what you want me to be, sir. You told me before that I pleased you. So, who’s to say I need training to please you again?” _What are you doing, Hermione? He’ll eat you_ alive _!_

Snape, however, only watched her in surprise, his expression continuing to give nothing away. He had expected her to cower, to run away – perhaps even a show of histrionics. He had not expected her to keep pushing, to stand up to him. It was…intriguing…he had to admit. Perhaps it was time to teach this young witch a lesson. After a second’s deliberation, he smirked at her. “Follow me, Miss Granger.”

Hermione’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief at his response. _Oh Lord. What have I done? He’s probably marching you to the front door and revoking your privileges!_

That wasn’t what he was doing, though. He instead strode down the hall and entered the main floor, proceeding towards the steps that led down to the private rooms. Her heart was fluttering with anticipation as she slipped her mask on and had to practically jog to keep up with the pace of his long strides.

Suddenly, there was an awareness in the back of her mind. She recognized it as the part of herself that was leading her into what she knew would be trouble. That competitive, sometimes reckless side of her personality. (Dare she say the Gryffindor part of her?) It was stroked and glowing, and intuition told her to look up. She listened to it, and caught the deadly and jealous stare of the beautiful and perfect Britt. Stunning and flawless Britt – who was _not_ the one about to scene with Severus Snape. Lovely, but suddenly _not_ so perfect Britt. The scowl on the redhead’s face was most unattractive. It was petty and completely beneath her, but Hermione simply couldn’t contain the slight cock of her eyebrow and the gloating smirk she gave the other woman as she passed her.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Intense/Emotional scene in this chapter.

* * *

  **Chapter Eleven**    
Structural Beta - Theo121

* * *

 

The club was really getting crowded and Hermione became frustrated when she found herself lagging further and further behind Snape’s tall, dark form. Sometimes, it sucked to be short. When she was finally able to break through the crowd, she found him waiting for her at the top of the stairs. He wasn’t simply waiting, though, his wand was tapping his leg impatiently and his eyes scolded her for falling behind. He suddenly looked like the foreboding Potions Master of her youth. It was a bit disconcerting. As usual, he was dressed in black. However, tonight he was wearing a black t-shirt that hugged every ripple and every muscle of his taut and defined physique. Now that she knew exactly what was under that shirt, she was hard-pressed to keep her breathing even. _Keep it together, Hermione_. Her stomach was full of fluttering butterflies, but she did her best to maintain a cool façade. After all, she was trying to prove a point.

When she was almost next to him, he turned from her and headed down the stairs. She maintained a close, but respectful and submissive, distance as she followed him. He stopped in front of door number seven on his right, tapping his wand against it. Despite looking like all the other, the door creaked loudly as though it were made of heavy wood with rusty hinges. He held it open as he gestured her inside. She noticed a sign hanging over the door as she passed through. “Restricted use. See Masters Snape or Malfoy for permission to enter.”

Hermione gulped and could practically feel the blood drain from her face as she glanced around. It looked like a true dungeon. The kind of dungeon that might be found in Bram Stoker’s _Dracula_. The floor was all cobblestone and the walls were slate and stone. Scattered sconces were the only light and caused dancing shadows to play visual tricks. She could hear the echo of dripping water and couldn’t imagine where it was coming from. As they walked further into the space, she began to decipher shadows from actual objects: a bench, a wooden table, a chair. However, it was what she came upon next that gave her pause… A pillory, an iron maiden, and a rack torture device _. Holy hell!_

She swallowed heavily, forcing herself to remember that Snape wouldn’t irreparably hurt her. This room was being used for intimidation, and she wasn’t going to let him get away with it. Hermione forced her eyes away from the sadistic tools of agony, instead meeting his deep coal eyes with her challenging caramel. She held his gaze while desperately trying to ignore the small voice that whispered in the back of her head. _You aren’t ready for this intense level of play, Hermione!_

“So, Miss Granger, do you know why I have brought you here?” She was standing stock-still, and he began to circle her like a vulture circling its prey. Merlin, if she didn’t feel as though she were the equivalent of roadkill right now. _What have you gotten yourself into, you stupid witch?_

His words were spoken clearly and meticulously, with each syllable slightly drawn out. His voice alone lit a fire within her belly, but his circling, predatory movements were causing an entirely different flutter. A welcoming flutter to a lower part of her anatomy.

Realizing he had actually asked her a question, she started to answer. Quickly, though, she stopped herself. He hadn’t given her permission to speak. They had not established any rules, so she would play it safe and do nothing without his permission.

She saw humor light in his eyes, even though his face remained stoic. “I never in my life thought I would _ever_ have to say these words,” he shook his head in bemused bewilderment. “When I ask you a question, Miss Granger, I expect an answer.”

Unable to control her frustration at his unfair teasing, Hermione rolled her eyes and responded impatiently. “To scene with me…sir? To see if I can please you?”

Her gaze was met with a victorious gleam and a condescending smirk. “Incorrect, Miss Granger. I thank you for so easily demonstrating, with your eye rolling and disrespectful tone, how you are _obviously_ in need of _practice and training_.”

Hermione felt her stomach fall to the floor _. Fuck! Think Hermione! This is Snape, the master of belittlement and condescension. Don’t fall for his goading!_

After an enjoyable minute of watching her internally scold herself, he continued. “I brought you here because you are clearly in need of a punishment, Miss Granger. A punishment for your severe disrespect, failure to listen, and overall presumptuousness.” Snape watched her for a moment, giving her a chance to absorb his words. “Do you consent? All you need to do is say no, and this will come to an end right now.”

The words ‘ _come to an end right now’_ were more terrifying than the looming punishment. They sounded so final – eternal. She couldn’t bear it. She would die if he pushed her away. No, she wasn’t going to back down. She would not let him get away with his self-deception and denial. Not only did she know that she meant more to him than he wanted (or was able) to admit, she also knew he would never harm her. Hurt her, yes. Never outside the realm of their play, though. She was safe with him.

“I consent, sir,” Hermione replied, strength and confidence in her voice. She felt a twinge of pride when she noticed the spark of surprise that flashed behind his eyes. If Snape thought he would scare her away by bringing her to this medieval torture cave and verbally chastising her, then he clearly didn’t know whom he was dealing with.

After a second’s pause, he gave her a slight nod. “Very well, Miss Granger, we shall proceed. Your safewords will be red for stop, yellow for caution, and green for go. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, I expect you to use them as necessary.”  His eyes scanned down her body and back to her eyes. “Undress…completely.”

Hermione kept her eyes on his as she slipped the straps off her shoulders, the dress caressing her skin as it slid down her body. With her wand in her hand, she pointed it at the shoe straps wrapping around her ankles and lower calves, whispering, _“Revolvo.”_ The straps immediately loosened, and she simply tossed the heels off her feet. She hooked her thumbs into her panties and slid them down her legs, tossing them to the side along with the dress and shoes.

When she stood back up, she noticed the dip of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. His eyes moved slowly down her naked body and back up. When he finally met her gaze again, she gave him a knowing look. Britt had been stunningly perfect in Hermione’s eyes, but Snape hadn’t looked at the redhead the way he was looking at Hermione right now. His obvious desire for her left her feeling giddy.

After a moment, he slowly stalked towards her, gently taking the wand from her hand and lightly tossing it onto her dress. He then approached the pillory, waving his wand and causing it to resize. It became shorter, to accommodate her height, and the head and hand openings widened. He gestured to the wooden restraining device and Hermione moved in front of it, quickly leaning over so that her head and hands slid into the proper slots. A wave of his wand, and the slots shrunk to encase her, leaving her completely immobile. While it wasn’t the most comfortable position, it wasn’t that bad. However, she could see how it could become very uncomfortable after a time.

“What color are we, Miss Granger?”

“Green, sir.”

She heard a drawer opening and what sounded like the rattle of chains coming from behind her. She felt him come closer and shivered when his familiar, warm, calloused hand gently caressed the back of her right upper thigh, over her bottom, her lower back, and further up to her right shoulder. He was standing next to her when she felt his hand dip to tug on the nipple of her dangling breast. He squeezed and plucked it, causing her to tremble with desire. His hands felt amazing on her skin, and even more wonderful on her breast as he continued to pull, twist, and pinch the now rock-hard bullet.

She let out a slight hiss when she felt something cold replace his fingers and clamp onto her nipple. He pulled his hand away, and her breast felt heavy as the clamp tightened further. She heard the chain dangling from her chest. Either the chain itself was weighted, or there was something on the end of it.  He quickly walked to her other side and placed another clamp on her left breast. The same sound of a jingling chain met her ears when he pulled his hand away. The pull on her breasts was a little intense and a bit painful, but it wasn’t unbearable.

“What color?”

“Green, sir.”

Once again, she heard him move around behind her and then a soft hand rubbed her bottom. “Miss Granger, you are being punished for the reasons we have discussed. I will give you six warm-up spankings with my hand and then twelve snaps from a riding crop. You will safeword if necessary. Do you understand and consent?”

“Yes, sir.” Internally she took a calming breath, remembering the night before. This was the same man who had practically taken her to the moon and back. She trusted him completely.

The six slaps from his hand came quickly and left her bottom and upper thighs tingling. A slight swipe of his hand up her folds left her trembling. “Ah, you seem to be enjoying this so far. I anticipate your enjoyment will be short-lived.” His tone was sardonic as he readjusted his stance. “Prepare yourself, Miss Granger. This _will_ hurt.”

Hermione flinched when the first stinging slap landed on her right buttock. While the slap of the crop was painful, the weight pulling on her breasts was what hurt the most. She could feel the chains swaying back and forth, recovering from her slight jolt forward. Suddenly another, slightly harder slap hit her left buttock, sooner than she had expected, and she jolted once again. The chains on her breasts were swaying faster and the pain was becoming intense. Her breathing picked up and she could feel a cool sweat on her brow.

“We can stop whenever you wish, Miss Granger. You only need to speak one simple little word.”

She took a steadying breath as the chains slowed their swaying and the pull lightened slightly. She could take this. “Green, sir.”

This time she forced herself to hold still when the slap came down. The chains didn’t sway, and she was relieved the pull on her tender nipples was unchanged. The sting to her rear end was a whole other matter, however. It really did smart. Hermione’s eyes watered as he quickly landed another hit. She continued to tense her body to keep from jolting forward, and the next slap of the crop was jarring. The slaps came faster and harder, and just as she was about to whisper yellow, he stopped. The dampness in her eyes overflowed to spill down her flushed cheeks. She did her best to control her breathing, not wanting the dreaded chains to move.

The reprieve he gave her was all she needed as the tears let her release the discomfort he was causing. She could do this, she could take it. It was only pain, after all. She was so proud of herself for not safewording only moments before, and she felt her confidence soar. Hermione needed to prove to Snape she could be what he wanted, because he was what _she_ wanted.

Snape stepped around her once again, releasing the uncomfortable clamps and Hermione let out a yelp as overwhelming pain pierced her nipples. _What the fuck is he doing?_ It felt like fire.

“I have removed the clamps, Miss Granger. What you are feeling is the blood returning to your nipples.” After a second, Snape added, almost begrudgingly, “I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to make it this far. However, we have only just begun.” He stepped around the front of her and cocked a signature brow. “Unless, of course, you wish to safeword?”

“Green, sir. Very green.” As the pain and throbbing in Hermione’s nipples began to quell, she felt her resolve build. She felt powerful, and strangely she felt…good.

Snape stared down at the witch with surprise in his eyes. He was amazed she didn’t safeword. Apparently, he would need to up his game. He didn’t wish to truly hurt her, but he needed to make his point. She had called him a coward. She had dared to presume he would want to train her, despite his prior explanations. Those were not her biggest infractions, however. Her biggest transgression was her denial of what he desired more than anything.

Last night _had_ been incredible. Like her, he had never in his life felt such a connection with a witch. All she had gleaned from it, however, was a desire to have him train and Dominate her. That was what this punishment was really about, no matter what he told her – or himself. Snape wanted to hurt her, to push her limits until she used her safeword. He wanted Hermione to feel a touch of the misery he was feeling. Needed her to experience the denial of the thing she wanted most, just as he was.   

Snape walked towards the wall and pulled down a cane. He was a master of the cane, and had inflicted significant pain with this device in the past. There were witches out there who were true pain whores, which was something he had enjoyed many years ago. These days, however, he desired a much milder form of punishment play. He looked back at the witch who had haunted his thoughts frequently and invaded his desires since she barged into his life just weeks ago. No, he would not let her continue to torment him. Snape would show Hermione what pain could feel like. In the process, he would push her away. She did not desire him the way he desired her. Because of this, he needed to remove her from his life. He needed to move on. This was the only way he knew how to make that happen.

“You will receive ten strikes from my rattan cane.” Hermione shivered at the sinister note in his voice, suddenly feeling a bit afraid. She shook it off.

Letting out a slow breath, she tried to force the tension out of her body. At that moment, she was very happy that she had healed the cane marks from the night before. Hermione knew she could handle it, knew she could get through this. She could get through it because this was what he desired, a witch who could take whatever he dished out. She could be that witch – wanted to be that witch. Desired to be that witch. If this was the only way to prove to him that she could please him, so be it. The scene might have been about punishment, but she knew it was a test, too. A test she refused to fail.

Snape watched her reaction carefully as he swung the first strike. “Fuck.” He heard her whisper. He congratulated himself _. Yes, this will do the trick_.

“What color, Miss Granger?”

“Green, sir.”

 _Hmmm, perhaps slightly harder_. He brought his arm back a little further, allowing a little more momentum and force. The cane whistled through the air and landed with a loud, _thwack_. She let out another cried expletive, followed by a soft moan. That hit had been harder than any he had landed on Britt last week, and he could see her body start to tremble. The cane stripe across her bottom was an angry red, much redder than the first stripe above it.

Snape became angry with himself when he felt his resolve begin to slip. He truly didn’t wish to hurt her. He merely wanted her to concede, to give up.

“Miss, Granger, you have done very well.” He was able to maintain his silky drawl even though he felt a bit sick to his stomach. “Are you sure you don’t wish to safeword? This can come to a stop right now.”

“No, s..sir. Gr…green.” Hermione’s words were choked, and he knew she was forcing down sobs. _Stop this, now!_ He knew he needed to be done, she wasn’t ready for this intensity – she might never enjoy this type of play, which would be fine. _Dammit it all to hell, why the bloody fuck wouldn’t she safeword?_

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to look at this objectively. She was a smart woman, she knew how to safeword and had done so the prior night. He was giving her ample opportunity to put an end to the scene. He raised his arm, and once again the cane came down hard.

This time she let out a yell. “Oh God!” Her shoulders shook with her sobbing.

He let out a sigh of relief. _Finally!_  “Miss Granger. Have you come to your senses? Do you wish to safeword?”

He heard her sniffling and her words came out congested. “No..no sir. I…I can d..do this!”

Snape felt his anger boil over. He stepped away from her, trying to calm himself. _Never punish when you’re out of control! You are out of control!_ He began to pace behind her, unable to keep his horrified eyes off the welts beginning to form from the last two strikes. His gaze dropped from her battered bottom to the cane in his hand. He couldn’t continue this. “No, we are done. This is over.” He tossed the cane to the side and grabbed his wand.

Hermione could hear him moving around behind her, but she didn’t understand why he hadn’t struck her again. _You’re okay, Hermione. Calm down._ She sniffled and tried to regain control of her trembling body.

Then his words began to sink in. _No, we are done. This is over._ She was sure she hadn’t heard him correctly as her heart was pounding in her ears. She had said she was okay! Tears were rolling down her cheeks and her bottom was on fire. It was excruciating, but she would endure it, dammit! Hermione would endure anything to prove to him she was worthy. To prove to him she could make him happy.

She felt the holes of the pillory open wide and he stepped up behind her, guiding her out.  _What is going on? He isn’t giving me a chance!_

Feeling disgusted with himself and the entire situation, Snape placed his hands on her trembling shoulders as he helped her step back from the pillory.

His mind was running through the needed aftercare and what he would say to comfort the distraught witch when her eyes shot up to his. They were wide and filled with...anger? He was taken aback by the look of resentment on her face. Drawing himself up, he prepared to defend himself. “Miss. Granger, you are not ready for the punishment you so eagerly wish to endure.”

She was furious. She felt heat rise up her chest like fiendfyre. Unable to control her outrage, she threw her arms wide and screamed at him. “ _What do you want from me_!?”

Her ire completely disarmed him. He stepped back, the breath forced from his lungs. He started to speak, but before he could open his mouth, she lunged at him, pounding her fists into his chest. “What the hell, Severus? What...do…you…want…from…me?” She punctuated every word with a hard punch. Snape took the blows, suddenly feeling as if he deserved them and anything else she wanted to give him.

She pushed away and covered her face with her hands, weeping. Her words came out muffled and softly pleading. “What do I have to do to make you understand?”

Her back was to him and Snape felt as if he was dying on the inside. _What have you done?_ This was not how he had intended for this to go. “Miss Granger…I – ” Hermione dropped her hands and looked back to him, her eyes red rimmed and her nose pink.

Snape took a breath. His voice was soft, trembling with his own emotion. “You are not ready for this…and I _can’t_ be what you want me to be. It breaks my heart to realize that you can’t be what I want you to be, either.”

Hermione felt his intense look. His words made no sense. Hadn’t she just tried to prove to him that she could be what he wanted? He was the one who had stopped the scene, not her! What had all this been about, if not that? Why did his eyes look so pained?  He was looking at her like…like…he was about to…O _h Merlin._ She wanted him to! _Please, kiss me_!  
  
Unable to take the look in her eyes any longer, and concerned he was going to give in to his need to take her again, he did the only thing he could. It was all that felt right in this moment. Muttering a cool “I have to go,” he stalked towards the door and left. Leaving her stunned and alone.

Hermione stared after him, completely dumbfounded. _What the fuck just happened?_ She thought as she burst into tears yet again.

Severus stormed out of the room and grabbed the magical radio from his pocket. “Lucius? Lucius…where are you?”

After a second, he heard the crackle of the radio. “Ah, Snape! There was a scuffle at the front door. Some submissive’s husband trying to get in. She wants no part of him. Think we might have to alert the Aurors.”

“Leave it, I’ll take care of it. Come to private room seven. I need you to take care of Hermione. She needs…” He sighed heavily. “Just come, NOW! I’ll handle the Aurors.”

There was silence over the radio before Lucius’ voice came back very low. “What have you done, Snape?” His voice was barely controlled.

“I don’t fucking know, man,” Snape returned in a sharp voice. “I just know she needs someone and I can’t be that person. It’s too complicated.”

They met in the stairwell, and Lucius’ accusing eyes only deepened Snape’s regret. “I will talk to you later,” the blond man snapped at his friend as he rushed past.

Lucius pushed into the Dungeon Room and stopped, heart clenching at the sight of the small young woman sobbing. She was squatting and turning the fabric of her dress in her hands, trying to figure out how to put it back on through her grief. If she was startled when she saw him, she didn’t let on, but he could see her working even harder to stem her tears. They locked eyes for a moment before he reached her. Lucius slowly knelt in front of her, gently taking the dress from her hands before straightening it and slipping it over her head.

“Thank you, sir,” she hiccupped with a broken voice that shattered him.

“Hermione, love,” he said kindly. “What happened?” He watched from his position as she pushed herself into a stand. Lucius caught sight of the three heavy cane lines on her bum before her dress fell back into place, and had to bite his cheek to stop the outburst that threatened. _Fucking Snape! What the bloody fucking hell happened now?!_

Lucius straightened, and without allowing her to protest, he reached out and pulled her tightly into an embrace. The affection caused the dam Hermione had been attempting to build to burst all over again. She let out deep, reverberating sobs against his chest. Smoothing a hand down her back slowly, he tried to soothe her. Pressing a kiss onto the top of her head, he carefully pulled back to look at her face after she had calmed some. He pulled a monogrammed handkerchief out of his pocket, handing it to her. “I want you to tell me everything that happened.”

Hermione wasn’t sure why, but she nodded, took a deep breath, and poured her soul out to Lucius Malfoy. Not sparing a single detail, she filled him in on everything that had happened between her and Snape during the last twenty-four hours.

Lucius listened while the girl talked. Eventually, when he realized it was going to be a longer anecdote than he had originally thought, he transfigured a couch out of a wooden bench and guided her to it. He took down some healing potions while Hermione continued to tell him everything. Pulling her over his lap, he rubbed the balm into her skin while she talked, and ranted, and cried. When he finished healing her bum, he gently pulled her into his arms and held her as she spilled the rest of her story.

When her words and tears had finally run out, his own emotions were in utter turmoil. He had to take several deep breaths and just as many minutes to sort his thoughts before he could even think about speaking. He continued to hold her, stroking her hair and upper back. The girl was acting like she was in love with Snape – in the very least, she seemed well on her way to being in love with him. It frustrated Lucius that this bothered him. He wanted to be happy for his friend, but Snape’s actions had been appalling. Lucius’ protectiveness of Hermione was becoming problematic. He was afraid he’d show his hand, which would make this whole mess even more complicated.

Finally feeling able to talk, he took a deep breath. “You’re telling me that you took a punishment you weren’t ready for because you wanted him to know you can be what he needs?” Lucius knew his voice was incredulous, but he couldn’t prevent it from coming out that way. He didn’t understand what had happened on Snape’s end, but from what Hermione was telling him, she wanted Snape. Wanted him completely. Lucius knew Snape desired the same, so his confusion was overwhelming. Had they just been misunderstanding each other? Not communicating? Lucius snorted. Knowing Snape, that’s exactly what had happened.

Hermione lay curled in Lucius’ arms, her cheek resting on his chest. She found herself very comfortable and content; his touches were wonderfully soothing. She had to admit how nice it had been to get everything off her chest. Her mind was incredibly clear now, and she was quickly coming to her own conclusions as to what she needed to do next.

Slowly, she pulled back from him and gave him a tender smile. “Yes, that’s what I was trying to do. Apparently, he doesn’t want me like that.” She rushed to continue when it looked like Lucius was about to protest. “It’s okay! You don’t have to defend him to me. I get it – I’m certainly not up to his speed. I might never be able to get there. I realize that now. I can’t see myself ever consenting to be punished with a cane again. If anything, this whole experience has made me rethink my ability to be a sexual submissive. I believe I’m going to walk away for now.”

“Hermione!” Lucius’ surprise couldn’t have been more evident. “Don’t do that. Give yourself a chance – ”

“No, this is the right step, Lucius,” she said softly. “I’m going to take some time to think about things. I’ve been a bit…impulsive…which is just not like me. My actions came faster than my reasoning and I’ve put myself in harm’s way more than once over the past few weeks. Some time away from this place…from him…will do me a world of good. The holidays are coming up, anyway. I wouldn’t have had time to get here very often.”

Hermione’s voice was very matter-of-fact, and Lucius was hard-pressed to respond beyond a slow nod as she pushed herself to stand. He had to bite his tongue to keep from protesting her imminent departure.

“Please tell Severus I’m sorry I couldn’t be what he wanted,” she requested in a clear tone. “And, Lucius?” He looked up at her, still trying to sort his thoughts. He was surprised when she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, followed by one to his forehead. Lucius closed his eyes, savoring her tender ministrations. He looked at her questioningly when she pulled back. “Thank you for being so wonderful. I don’t know where I would be right now if it weren’t for you.”  
  
Lucius was unable to speak, afraid his voice would betray his emotion. Instead, he stood and offered her an arm, escorting her to the entrance. He helped her into her cloak and retrieved her handbag. Then he took both of her hands in his and pressed them together. “We are here when you’re ready to come back, Doll,” he promised her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “My offer will stand. I think you’re spectacular, and I would be honored to help you learn all the ins and outs and introduce you to this world properly.”

Hermione blushed prettily and bowed her head, murmuring a quiet thank you. She returned his kiss with one of her own to his cheek, then she was gone in a swirl of lavender scent and curly hair.

Lucius was frozen for a moment as he watched her disappear through the door, then his jaw clenched. His fury with Snape was returning tenfold. “Have you seen Master Snape?” he asked Lola with a low growl. She looked startled at his tone. Lucius wasn’t one to display much emotion, he was always in control.

“He was with the Aurors until about ten minute ago, they got everything sorted out,” Lola responded cautiously. “I think he was heading to his private quarters, last I saw.”

Lucius didn’t even trouble himself with a thank you, just spun on his heel and took off towards his intended target.

“You’re a bloody fucking fool, you wanker!” he raged, bursting into Snape’s living room. The dark-haired man didn’t bother to look up from the glass of whiskey he was nursing.

“Is she all right?” His voice was flat.

“What were you thinking, Severus? Did you _see_ the fucking marks you left on her backside? She wasn’t ready for that! You _know_ she wasn’t ready for that! You acted out of anger, not Dominance. That is not acceptable, Severus! Not at all! Where is your fucking head, man? You know you don’t scene when you’re emotional!” Lucius was so furious that his words exploded from him like a torrential rainfall smothering the earth.

“I lost my head.” Snape sounded completely dejected. It was obvious he was put out with himself.

“She told me what happened. All of it. Last night included.”

Snape’s gaze snapped to Lucius’, surprised by his friend’s words. “You do realize that girl is already half in love with you, right? Or were you so bloody caught up in your own self-loathing that you missed every sign she threw at you?”

Snape’s mouth dropped open with an audible pop, color draining from his face.

“I thought so!” Lucius dragged a hand through his hair before using it to smooth over his mouth. “You thought she didn’t want _you_ , didn’t you? You thought she just wanted you to train her. Am I right?”

Snape remained silent, completely caught off guard. He nodded his head jerkily, barely daring to breathe. Finally, he found his voice. It came out hoarse and raw. “For fuck’s sake, Malfoy. What are you saying?”

Lucius shook his head in bewilderment. “For someone so smart and intuitive, you can be so dense and thick sometimes.”  He took a breath and sighed heavily. “She told me that she had mentally prepared herself to take _anything_ you dished out tonight because she wanted to be what you _needed_. Severus! She would have _never_ safeworded. She wanted to feel _worthy_ of you, and you were a bloody fucking jackass to her!”

After a brief spell of total silence, comprehension washed over Snape’s face. He stood in a flurry of fury, whipping his crystal tumbler into his unlit fireplace. It shattered in a spectacular spray of rainbow shards as he let out a roar of frustration.

“Where is she?” he demanded, turning wild eyes on his fair-haired friend.

“Gone.” Lucius felt no need to beat around the bush.

“What do I fucking do _now_?” Severus’ voice was suddenly quiet and entirely dejected. It threw Lucius’ anger off track, and he let out a long, trembling breath.

“You give her some space,” he answered after a long moment of silence. “You calm down, put your head on straight. Then you practice a _sincere_ and _heartfelt_ apology and take her out to dinner. If it goes well… _when_ it goes well – because it will as long as you’re not a total wanker – you offer to train her. Or you tell her what it is you truly want from her – if you’re still so hell-bent on not training her.”

Lucius leaned back against the desk. “But, you need to know that she told me she plans to take a break from this place. She doesn’t know if she has what it _takes_ to be a sexual submissive, Severus.” He couldn’t help the glare he threw at his raven-haired friend. “Can you believe that? That is what you accomplished this evening. She is questioning and denying herself because of you!”

Snape growled low in his throat, his horror apparent. After a moment’s pause, Lucius shook his head. “Just make it right, Snape. Give her some space to calm down, but don’t wait too long or she really might move on.”

More silence stretched through the room. “I can’t be on the floor anymore tonight,” Snape said softly. “I just…can’t deal with anything more tonight.”

“I’ve got the floor,” Lucius said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I need to tell you one more thing, Severus.” Obsidian eyes met steel grey. “If you fuck up again, you’re done. Do you understand? I won’t let you keep hurting her. You need to figure things out and be the man that witch deserves. I know you’re confused, and I know this isn’t something you’ve experienced a lot in your life, but everything you’ve done has been grossly unfair to her. You need to talk to her, get things out on the table. Communicate like a bloody fucking adult! Show some fucking vulnerability and take responsibility for your feelings and actions.”

Snape seemed unable to respond as he sunk back into the couch, head in his hands.

“Do you understand, Snape?” Lucius was not going to let him off that easy.

“Yes, Luc. I got it.”


	12. Chapter Twelve

 

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

* * *

Lucius was irritated as he struggled to make his way through the massive crowds. It was two days before Christmas! Shouldn't people have finished their shopping by now? Never mind that he hadn't finished his own. While it was the day before Christmas Eve, it was also a Saturday, so the regular weekend shoppers were out as well.

He forced himself to draw in a calming breath when his foot was stepped on by a small child who cut in front of him. The child was oblivious to all around him except the doorway to Lucius' right.

Lucius looked up and rolled his eyes. _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes._ Large, thimble shaped, colorful bulb lights outlined the door and picture windows. Flashing signs and posters lured the shoppers in droves.

_On the Naughty List? Live up to your reputation with our wide selection of bottom seeking whoopie cushions, puking pasties, and nose bleed nougats!_

Another sign flashed:

_Need something for Dear Old Mum? Look no further than our wide selection of lovely fragrances! Including, our most popular – Rose Musk – which turns into Pig Sty within a couple of hours!_

_Explosive Disappearing Ink!_

_Pygmy Puffs on Sale Today Only!_

_Wildfire Whiz-Bangs on Special – Boxing Day Only! Just in time for the New Year!_

Looking to his left, he spared his feet further injury by waiting for the next barreling child to get in the door before stepping past the blasted entrance. What he wouldn't give for some restraining devices right about now.

He walked as fast as the crowds would allow, his mouth releasing puffs of steam into the cold air with each breath. He let out a shudder of relief when he finally found the store he was looking for: _Ferdinand's Fineries._ It took him less than ten minutes to slip in and out, acquiring the last gift he wanted to get for Draco.

As he stepped back out onto the street into the wind and blistering cold, a woman with sleek, golden hair holding the hand of a young boy made his stop in his tracks. It punched him in the gut like a bludger. _Narcissa._ Even after eight years, this still happened to him. He would see someone or something that reminded him of her, and it was jarring. A cold sweat brushed his brow, his broken heart hammering away in his chest. Merlin, he missed her.

The Holidays were the hardest, though. It may have been years since he lost his Narcissa, but he still found Christmas abysmal without her. He could picture her walking next to him vividly, after all, how many times had they done just that? Walk down Diagon Alley, window shopping with Draco pulling at their sleeves, begging for the newest broom, an ice cream at Fortescue's, or some other toy du jour.

Lucius took a breath and forced himself to move, not oblivious to the shoppers around him who mumbled their frustrations at having to step around him. Christmas just wasn't the same anymore, Narcissa was the one who had made everything special. She was the one who had seen to every minute detail to guarantee the holiday was perfect. Lucius glanced down at his bags, suddenly feeling lacking. He knew Narcissa would have done better. She would have found the perfect gifts, not just nice ones.

He looked around, his mind too distracted to really see anything as he continued down the street. Narcissa had been a good wife, an understanding wife. Understanding of his fetish and considerate of this need within him. She never denied him or complained about the submissives. She knew it was undetached, hedonistic needs being met. She knew she was the love of his life, the pilot light that kept his heart aflame.

However, he was without her now. His psychotic and crazed sister-in-law had killed her. _How does a woman kill her own sister?_ Bellatrix had done it for Voldemort, of course. Narcissa had been captured at that fateful Hogwarts battle. He, Narcissa, and Draco had come out of hiding to fight with the Order, only to have her stumble and find herself a prisoner to the mad thing they had once called Master.

When called upon, she had lied. She had said the boy died, staying faithful to the cause they had grown to believe in. Faithful to the young man they had all pinned all their hopes on. It was because of her sacrifice that many of these smiling faces doing their Christmas shopping had a holiday to celebrate at all. He tried not to be bitter, but sometimes it was hard to stop his mind from going down that path.

In the years since she had been gone, Lucius had spent more time working. He found that the long days at Malfoy Enterprises and endless nights at The Dungeon helped keep him grounded. He and Draco had become very close, and his friendship with Snape had become an integral part of his life. Severus Snape wasn't a friend, he was a brother.

Thinking about Snape pulled his thoughts back to the young witch that had brought a spark back to Lucius' life. A spark that had the potential relight that pilot light that had gone out eight years ago. He wouldn't go there, though. He wouldn't betray his friend's heart. Snape deserved love, and Lucius would do what he could to help his self-destructive friend navigate his way through this mess. To his own detriment, Snape had lived up to his reputation and had done nothing to address what had happened with Hermione. In turn, the man had been more ghastly than normal these past weeks and Lucius was quite over it.

In light of Snape's feelings, Lucius would simply be a friend to the young witch (perhaps even a mentor if she changed her mind), but he wouldn't let his thoughts or feelings be known. Not yet, anyway. Not unless, or until, things were truly resolved between Snape and their shared interest. Out of love for Snape, Lucius would give his friend the opportunity to work things out. After that, though? After that she would be fair game, and Lucius Malfoy was not a man to let something he wanted slip through his fingers.

He looked scanned the crowd, hoping to catch sight of the bushy-haired beauty. It had been three weeks since she had left the club, swearing herself away from submission for a while. He had hoped she would change her mind and return. Alas, she was a witch who stuck to her word. He had expected no less. Still, he missed seeing her and found himself searching for her without conscious thought when in public places.

Truthfully, he could have finished the last of his shopping earlier in the week, but, knowing she worked long days, he felt he would be more likely to run into her on the weekend.

Contemplating calling it quits and starting for home, he changed his mind and decided to pick up a couple more gifts. Stepping into _Luna's Spirited Spirits_ , he opened the door. The bell rang over his head, announcing that another customer had entered the store. He closed it behind him and was surprised when the young woman he had just been thinking of met him with a beaming smile.

"Lucius!" she exclaimed, dashing over to him. She just stopped short of throwing her arms around him and he found himself feeling slightly disappointed.

Years of pureblood habit prevented his displaying obvious joy at seeing her. His voice croaked from the lump in his throat. "Hermione! What a pleasure!" He managed a small upturn to the corners of his mouth.

Hermione glanced around and, finding there was no one else in the store, gave him a knowing smirk before throwing her arms around him. "Oh, Lucius. I've missed you!"

Despite himself and his constant propriety, he couldn't resist hugging her back and kissing the top of her head. "And I you, Doll." He stepped back and pulled her into the French Champagne aisle. He glanced around to be sure they wouldn't be overheard. "How have you been? The club hasn't been the same these past weeks without your precious presence."

Hermione smiled, but her smile had a touch of sadness to it. "I've been good...you know. Work is crazy and of course the holiday activities have been demanding."

"But you're happy?" he asked, hesitantly.

She shrugged. "I'm adjusting. It's…" She looked up at him, her hands grasping his forearms. Hermione's eyes darted around them, making sure they were still alone. Her voice was soft, her eyes sincere. "How is it that something unrecognized by me my entire adult life has made such an impact in such a short amount of time? It's astounding, really."

Suddenly realizing she was holding his forearms tightly, as though she were holding on for dear life, she dropped them. An embarrassed flush crept over her. "Sorry," she mumbled, barely loud enough to be heard.

"Nothing to apologize for," he answered in a gruff tone, once again taken in by her honesty and openness. She was such a breath of fresh air. "When something is right, it's just right. I would encourage you not to fight it."

She gave a thoughtful nod. "How is he?" she asked softly. They both knew who "he" was. Lucius' chest constricted. Was it jealousy that caused this feeling? Or was he happy Snape had such a good witch asking after his wellbeing?

"Unbearably acidic since you stopped coming to the club," he answered truthfully. "He and I spoke, but he's as stubborn as always."

"Well," she murmured, looking contemplative and a bit woeful. "That's something, then. Tell him I say hello?"

Lucius nodded, his heart feeling heavy. He couldn't bear it, he wanted to see her again. This meeting was obviously coming to a close and had been too short. Bumping into her out and about would not be enough.

After a pause, he asked. "Why don't you come to the Manor on Boxing Day? The club is closed, and this lonely old man will be bored. Come for lunch. The Manor is beautiful this time of year."

Hermione thought for a minute and then smiled. "You know what? I'd really love that!"

"Excellent! I'll look forward to it."

She beamed up at him and stood on her toes, giving his cheek a chaste kiss. "Me too, _old man_." She gave him a teasing smile.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione," he answered, returning her chaste kiss with one of his own. Her cheek was silky soft.

"Happy Christmas, Lucius," she replied before turning and leaving the store in a blur of long, chestnut curls and the scent of lavender. He stared at the door for another long minute before shaking it off and searching for the whiskey aisle.

* * *

Charlie Weasley had barely left her alone since dinner. They had been seated next to each other, being the only two singles at the table. It had been that way since Ron and Luna had started dating five years ago. Hermione was starting to wonder how he would react if she actually took him up on his offer of a Christmas bed-warming. She gave a small sigh.

She had been lying to herself for too long, and it was becoming harder to do so. She could feel her resolve starting to crack. For the last three weeks, she had told herself that her proclivity to submission was a phase. A passing fancy. She didn't need it to be sexually satisfied, she just needed to find the right man. It seemed that Severus fucking Snape was definitely _not_ the right man. For the first week, Hermione had been hopeful that he would call on her and explain himself. Lucius would have told him what she had said. He'd all but implied that he had when they had run into each other in Diagon Alley. By the end of the second week, her hopes had been thoroughly dashed

Perhaps she really had been reading the whole situation dead wrong. Maybe everything she felt _had_ been one sided. She sighed and wrapped her arms around her middle, holding her glass of wine so it appeared to be dangling off one hip. The conversation around her was loud and merry. The children were squealing and active. She smiled indulgently at little three-year-old James as he jumped up and down with excitement after receiving her gift of water-activated grindylow figurines for the bath. She adored her Godson; he was absolutely precious to her. Her heart pinged with a desperate longing. It was hard for her to be around her friends and their children lately. It kept her dwelling on her desperation to start a family of her own. It was very apparent her biological clock had started to tick loudly.

It was made all the worse by the fact she had no prospects, unless you counted Charlie Weasley. She turned her eyes away from the excited children to the Weasley in question. She really had zero idea if he was interested in her as a potential girlfriend, a one-night stand, or if he was just taking the Mickey to see her blush. Cocking her head to the side, she took a moment to contemplate the idea seriously.

It would certainly be convenient, she was already part of the family. The Weasley's had all but adopted her after her parents' memory charm hadn't been able to be reversed. Even her breakup with Ron had come with the promise that she would always be part of the Weasley clan – they weren't going to let her go.

And in all honesty? Charlie Weasley was bloody hot. Shorter then she typically l liked, but at her height of five-foot-barely-nothing, he was still a good eight or more inches taller than her. He kept his trademark red hair short, was heavily muscled from all his active, physical labor on the dragon reservation, and he was fun and funny. She always laughed when they spoke. His crystal blue eyes were set in a kind, handsome face…he was smart, and had personality galore. There was nothing to scoff at with him, that was for sure.

Hermione pulled herself out of her musings with a firm shake of her head, but not before Charlie caught her staring. He gave her a wolfish grin and wink. She couldn't help but smirk back at him with a small shake of her head. _No, Charlie. Sorry. It's just not happening._

Charlie gave her a shrug and look that said, _Your loss, babe._ He could obviously read her like a book.

"Okay! Okay, everyone!" Ron was talking loudly, trying to get the group's attention. "Lu and I have a gift for everyone that we'd like to share!" He clapped his hands, pulling the focus to his little family of four.

Hermione and Harry exchanged a look, both of them questioning the other if they knew what was coming. It appeared neither of them had a clue and they turned their focus back to the other third of their friendship.

"Go ahead, babe," Ron grinned as his wife and Hermione smiled at Luna's huge, excited grin.

"We'll be having a baby girl in May!" she said in her dreamy, sweet voice. Hermione's heart was torn in two directions: utter elation for her friends and sickening jealousy. She schooled her features into a firm smile and exclaimed happily with the rest of the family, sneaking in to give hugs and kisses.

Things had barely settled when Ginny's voice rose above the crowd as well. "Well, thanks big brother for stealing our thunder!" she teased. The room grew quiet very suddenly, even the children were silent, sensing something big.

"Do you mean…?" Molly Weasley's face was stretching into a cat-who-got-the-canary grin.

"Yes!" Ginny squealed. "Harry and I are expecting a little girl in _June_!"

There was another wave of shrieks and booming congratulations, and Hermione's mood soured even more. What was wrong with her? She should be happy for her friends – her family. These were her brothers and sisters! Why did she just feel like crying? She forced herself to join in the congratulations, hoping no one noticed her lackluster response. She would get over it and get properly excited in no time, but apparently, she just needed a moment to feel a bit of self-pity.

Returning to the outskirts of the gathering and watching as everyone resumed opening gifts and falling into smaller groups to converse, Hermione sighed and downed the rest of the contents in her glass. She moved across the room with the intention of going to the kitchen for a refill, and found she would need to pass Charlie to get there. With a toothy grin, he watched her as he nonchalantly took a swig of his butterbeer, looking up pointedly.

Her gaze followed his. _Bloody hell!_ He was standing in the door way and, at some point, the freaking mistletoe had moved. Again. Oh, she _hated_ magical mistletoe! It was a menace! Anyone under it was caught until someone graced them with a kiss. The doorway he was in was the only way out of the room. Evidently, Charlie was issuing a direct challenge.

 _And why not, Hermione? It's just a kiss. A safe way to try him on for size…_ Gah, she was lonely. She had really come to dislike this time of year. _Enough! Stop being a Scrooge! Everything in good time, be patient._

 _Yes._ A different voice chimed in with a smirk. _And right now, it's time to let Charlie Weasley kiss you. Merry Christmas to_ you _! Who knows? Maybe happily ever after comes in the form of a Weasley boy after all._

She paused, watching Ron and Luna's twin boys, Ares and Apollo, playing in the wrapping paper, squealing animatedly. She edged her way towards the door while pretending to be distracted. Part of her was hoping Charlie would let her through without making a fuss, but the other part knew it was a way to make sure it looked like she hadn't ended up there on purpose.

"Ah, ah, ah, Granger!" he growled, making numerous people in the room turn and look at them. "Are you really going to sneak through this door without helping a bloke out? I'm stuck, love!" He pointed up at the white berried plant.

She rolled her eyes as George let out a piercing whistle and Harry and Ron grinned at her indulgently. Molly looked almost too bloody hopeful. _Oh, boy. She's already planning the damned wedding!_ Rolling her eyes at her best friends, she looked back to Charlie and cocked an eyebrow.

"Alright, Weasley. do your worst," she laughed, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.

He let out an excited whoop that made the room shake with the laughter of their onlookers as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. "I've been waiting years to catch you under the mistletoe, Granger!" he teased before dropping his lips to hers.

 _Mmm_. Hermione responded with friendly enthusiasm. A little affection was never too misguided, right? His lips were hot, and he wasted no time deepening the kiss, making her tummy flip and her toes curl. Charlie Weasley was a _very_ good kisser. Nothing like Snape, but – _No! Merlin, Hermione. Just enjoy yourself for once! Stop analyzing everything! Snape. Doesn't. Want. You._

She pushed her focus back to Charlie as he softened the kiss and gently released her lips. She tilted her head up and pressed another chaste kiss to his mouth before opening her eyes and grinning at him. "Nice, Weasley," she teased. "I'll put you in my top ten." She winked at him as the room roared with laughter at her mocking tone. "You're free!" she smiled. "I'm going to grab another glass of wine," she announced, turning to the room. "Anyone need anything?"

"Butterbeer!" George and Ron called together while Fleur and Angelina held up empty wine glasses. " _Accio_!" Hermione called, sending the goblets soaring towards her.

"I'll give you a hand, love," Charlie whispered in her ear, covertly running his fingers down her spine.

"You're getting too familiar, Charlie," she smirked as his touch caused a shiver. She moved away from him, starting for the kitchen. Damn, she needed a shag. Plastic toys only helped so much.

"I'd like to get _more_ familiar," he said in a husky voice as he trailed behind her.

"And what are we going to do about that?" The innuendo was clear. Ostensibly, she had made an unconscious decision. She glanced over her shoulder to see Charlie freeze in his tracks, his lovely blue eyes darkening with lust.

He stepped up behind her as she poured three goblets full of a tart red, cranberry wine and settled his hands on her hips, pulling her bum back into the cradle of his thighs. His erection was obvious as it pressed into the small of her back. "I certainly have some ideas, love."

After summoning two butterbeers to her serving tray, she threw caution to the wind and turned her head over her shoulder. She stretched up onto her tiptoes and nuzzled her nose gently against his before pressing another light, chaste kiss to his firm mouth. Responding quickly, he gripped her chin in one hand, holding her in place while he deepened the kiss, his tongue rolling languidly with hers. Hermione's breathing started to accelerate. His grip was almost bruising, which tickled her proclivities in all the right places. He really _was_ a great kisser – maybe…? Maybe this would work out? She could see herself with someone like Charlie Weasley – and he had that interview with the Scotland Dragon Reserve…If he was closer…? She decided instantaneously.

"My place? After everyone's in bed? I'll leave the floo open for you," she suggested in a whisper, pulling away. She didn't want anyone who might come looking for them to find them in such a compromising situation. A kiss under the mistletoe was one thing…sneaking a snog in the kitchen would get too many people too excited.

"Fuck. Yeah?" Charlie looked as surprised as he sounded, but very pleased as well.

Hermione laughed coquettishly. "Yes, Charlie. Looks like your Christmas wish is coming true this year." With those sly words, she levitated the tray and motioned for it to precede her to the living room, leaving a flustered Charlie behind.

* * *

She was insane. Why had she suggested this? Perhaps it would be best to make it clear this was a one-night stand… But what if it was good? Then he'd be under the impression she didn't want to see him again. Fuck. Why had she put herself in this situation?

 _Breathe, Hermione. Just…take it as it comes. If it's good, invite him back for dinner and go another round tomorrow night. If it's not good, tell him thanks for the Christmas shag and be done with it._ It was all he'd implied the last three years, he shouldn't be upset if it was all she offered.

Taking a gamble that Charlie would be appreciative of a sexy negligee and some barely-there knickers, she changed and then wrapped herself in a silk robe. She let her hair down and it tumble in thick, unruly curls around her face and down her back, she hadn't removed her makeup. Why was she so nervous? She grabbed a glass of wine and the novel she was currently reading and decided to relax, trying to calm her anxiety.

That's how Charlie found her when he arrived through her floo just before midnight with a sexy grin on his face. Hermione – hair loose and wild, dressed in a silk robe, reading a book, and curled up on the sofa. No one had ever looked quite so sexy to him.

"Hey, Charlie," she cocked her head and gave him a sweet smile. "Would you like a drink?" She stood as she asked her question and watched with amusement as his eyes trailed down her silk clad body, lingering on her bare legs.

"No, thanks," he murmured, his face slipping quickly into a look of seriousness. "You're sure about this, Hermione?" he asked as he slowly crossed the room. Hemione felt her heart accelerate. Wouldn't it be just the thing if Charlie Weasley was "the one"? He'd been under her nose most of her life.

"I'm sure," she answered in a whisper as his hands gently settled on her hips before he pulled her into a lovely embrace. His mouth sealed lightly over hers, in a soft kiss that made her smile against his lips as one of his hands left her hip to cup her bum, rubbing down over the back of her thigh. She rolled her hips against his, giving a needy little whimper in the back of her throat. Tilting her head to the side so he had better access, Charlie trailed fluttery kisses down the length of her jaw bone and his five o'clock shadow followed. The sensation was pleasant, but was doing absolutely nothing for her. She wanted passion, fire – fucking. Not light touches and love making. She wasn't in love with him, and this wasn't doing a damned thing for her.

Deciding to take things into her own hands, Hermione tugged him around and gave him a little push, forcing him to sit on the couch. He grinned up at her with an eyebrow cocked and a curious expression. The curiousness turned to surprise when she pulled the tie of the silk robe and pushed it off her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet.

He made an appreciative grunt, taking in the sheer holiday red negligee. She almost giggled aloud at his stunned look. The simple nightie had strategically placed lace, but left very little to the imagination. The scrap of red fabric the constituted her panties may have well not even been worn for all they covered.

Hermione straddled his lap, sitting high on her knees so her face was a little higher than his and stared down at him with a smirk. "You approve?" she taunted with a laugh.

"Bloody hell, yes," he said enthusiastically as she caught his lips in a much more heated kiss then they had yet shared. She delved her tongue deep into his mouth. Bringing her hands up, she sunk them into his hair and gave a tug, not too hard, but hard enough to hopefully hint he could be a little more demanding of her. He understood the insinuation, returning her thorough lip lock, and raising the bar by tugging on her lower lip with his teeth.

Charlie's fingers slid underneath the hem of her nightie and she pulled away so he could lift it over her head. Hermione quickly moved back in, nuzzling his jaw with her nose and following it with her tongue and teeth. Sucking the sensitive lobe into her mouth, she tugged on it with her teeth before laving it with her tongue. He gave an appreciative growl as he covered one breast with the flat of his palm. When he teased her nipple to a tender peek, she moaned.

Arching back to give him better access to her breasts, Hermione grasped the back of Charlie's head and guided him to one, urging him to take a nipple into his mouth. He complied and immediately she was frustrated. There wasn't enough pressure, his hands were too light on her skin. He was being too…nice.

She pushed through her disappointment. They were just getting started, it could get better. _Keep moving forward_. She slipped her hands between them and pulled his long sleeved thermal tee out of the waist band of his trousers. He made a low sound of approval before releasing her nipple and helping her divest him of his shirt.

Hermione had seen Charlie shirtless before, summer Quidditch games at the Burrow came to mind straight away, but she took a moment to appreciate his hard chest and shoulders anyway, running her hands over his ropey muscles as he bent his head back to her chest.

He stood abruptly with her in his arms, causing her to let out a small shriek of surprise. "Sorry, love," he grinned down at her as she wrapped her legs around his hips and gripped the back of his neck. "I just thought moving this to the bed might be more comfortable."

She returned his smile with an affirmative sound. "That one," she pointed at her bedroom door. Moments later she was sprawled supine on her bed, Charlie brushing kisses down her stomach. His fingers hooked into the strings of her thong and pulled it off. He gave a little sigh of pleasure at having her fully naked.

"I'm sure you've heard this before, but you have a beautiful body, Hermione." His voice was husky and his gaze dark with lust.

"Thanks, Charlie." She was sincere. Was it just her, or was this whole encounter forced and awkward? She tried to brush it off and reached for his belt, undoing the clasp and sliding it through the loops. Her mind's eye taunted her as the sound of the belt took her back to her first encounter with Snape. _Fuck, Hermione! Concentrate!_

He undid his zip and rolled to the edge of the bed to doff his trousers, socks, and boxers. She was sitting up on her knees when he turned back to her. This seemed to startle him, but he quickly wiped the expression off his face and rolled up onto his knees as well. He pulled her to him in another slow, gentle kiss.

Charlie's hands slid over her torso, his fingers seeking her center. She gave a little jerk of appreciation when grazed her clit before delving deeper, collecting her arousal (thank goodness for that, at least she _was_ aroused…just not overtly enthused) before moving back to circle the little nub at the apex of her thighs. She sighed into his mouth. This seemed to encourage him, and he slid down her sex again to push a finger inside of her.

She liked two…or even three fingers, one wasn't going to do any for her. She needed to take control, or they were both going to end up frustrated and disappointed before this was all over. Hermione now knew that she really hated to be in control in the bedroom, so it was with reluctance, she broke their kiss.

"Listen, Charlie," she said softly, before pressing a kiss to his cheek. Charlie paused in his ministrations and met her gaze, a quizzical look on his face. "I appreciate you being gentle and sweet and all, but…I, uh." She felt her face heat and knew she was blushing. _Bloody hell._

"Tell me what you need, Hermione," he said encouragingly. "I was kinda getting the vibe this wasn't working out so well…" he trailed off with a rueful smile.

She gave a short nod and an apologetic twitch with her lips. "Yeah, okay. Um…" She had to stop and take a deep breath. "Ilikethingsrough." The words spilled out so fast she was positive he missed them. He looked confused for a moment, but then a slow, sexy grin split his face.

"You like things rough?" he clarified, his smile only widened further when she nodded. "Tell me what else."

Her eyes widened, and she gave an embarrassed shake of her head while shrugging. Why could she talk so freely about this stuff with the likes of Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape? Put her with someone she'd known well for a large part of her life, however, and she locked up tighter than a Chinese puzzle box.

"All right," he said slowly, pulling himself to his full height and towering over her. Her heart rate finally began to climb, and she could feel herself grow more wet as his personality became more aggressive…more…dominate. _Fuck_. Apparently, she _did_ need dominance to get turned on. "Do you like to be held down?"

Her mouth dropped open, but an enthusiastic sound left her throat without her permission. His look turned predatory. "Tied up?" he fired out another question and she whimpered. "My, my, my, Granger… Full of surprises, aren't you?" He was leering at her…actually leering. She started to tremble.

"Tell me what else," he demanded, mouth locking on her neck, she felt his teeth scrape her collarbone and let out a raspy gasp of pleasure.

"Take control," she all but begged him, his reaction making her feel emboldened. "Tell me what to do. Tell me where you want me, tell me how to touch you."

There was another pause, and he pulled away from her again. " _You_ want _me_ to take control?"

"Yes, please," she reached out to touch his face, wondering why he looked so astonished.

" _You_ do?"

She was starting to feel uncomfortable again, and her frustration was returning. She snapped out of pure desperation. Three weeks since she had been laid last, she needed this. Her life was just too bloody stressful without sexual release.

"Yes, Charlie. Take control! I don't want gentle love making – I want to be fucked! If you don't have that in you, we should probably end this before we both wind up disappointed!" The moment it was out of her mouth, Hermione wanted to take it back. She couldn't even look at him, she was so horrified. Any time she had ever been honest with someone in the bedroom, they made her feel like an idiot. She cringed internally, waiting. The silence was becoming deafening and she was just about to call it quits when he finally spoke.

"On your knees, on the floor," he demanded softly.

Her head snapped up, eyes crashing into his. "What?"

"On your knees, on the floor," he repeated, much more firmly this time. She scrambled to comply, getting into position just as he asked. He moved to stand before her. "Suck my cock and get me nice and hard, love."

Hermione closed her eyes in relief. She almost felt like crying. Hardly daring to believe this was really happening, she did as she was directed. Grasping the base of his prick in her small hand, she gave it an experimental stroke, smirking as he let out a low groan. Charlie had a nice cock, thick and above average…then her mind began mentally comparing him to Ron (Charlie was a bit bigger) and she stopped her pumping motion, a bit horrified.

She was surprised when Charlie laughed aloud. "You just compared me to my baby brother, didn't you?"

Just like that, the awkwardness was broken. Hermione gave him a bashful smirk, which Charlie found utterly charming. He chuckled, but it turned into another snarl of pleasure when she took the head of his erection in her heated, satiny mouth. Her tongue never stopped moving as she slid down his length, making the blood pool heavily. By the time he stopped her, he was almost painfully hard.

"That's enough, love, I have more plans for you. Up you get," he grasped her elbows and helped pull her to her feet. "On your back in the center of the bed, hands above your head." He was digging in his discarded pants pockets while he spoke, his voice was deep and calm, but authoritative. She never hesitated in her movements, positioning herself just ask he requested. She was shaking with excitement. For once in her life, asking for what she wanted in the bedroom was getting results – outside of the club, that was.

He straightened just as she lifted her arms above her head. "You're sure you're okay with the things we talked about?" he affirmed.

She nodded, but then spoke, "Yes. But if I don't like something, I'll say red, okay? If you don't like something, you can use the same safeword." Charlie's eyebrows rose almost to his hairline and Hermione wondered if she'd said too much. She was relieved when he acquiesced.

"Sounds good. Okay then," he pointed his wand at her hands. " _Adfigo_!" Hermione's eyes flew wide when she realized he'd used a sticking charm. She pulled on her wrists, testing the bond. They wouldn't budge. She pulled harder and instantly groaned. _Yes! Yes, yes, yes!_ She turned her eyes on him, they had darkened with lust. Her breasts heaved with increased respirations.

"Merlin, Hermione," Charlie slid onto the bed with her, his hand automatically coming out to caress her stomach. She bowed into him, panting. "This is really hot, witch," he grinned at her before dropping an open mouth kiss to the tender flesh of her belly. "What other things would you like me to do to you?" he whispered. His mouth trailed up as his fingers trailed down. He latched onto a breast with a firm pull of suction, making her gasp just as his fingers parted her lower lips, finding her soaked.

"Fuck!" he hissed, and she bucked into his hand, pulling at the charm that held her firmly in place.

"Gods, Charlie. Shit!" Hermione whined. Charlie trailed his tongue across her chest, nipping at the underside of the opposite breast before seeking out the rosy tip. He pulled it into his mouth with even greater force, grazing it with his teeth as he sunk two fingers into her molten core. In fascination, he watched as she threw her head back, expletives falling from her kiss-swollen lips. She was drenched, she had been more then adequately wet before, but now her arousal seemed to be pouring out of her. Fuck if she wasn't sexy as hell.

Carefully, unsure of how she would react, he slid his fingers out before curling his three middle digits together and slipping them back into her, stretching her deliciously. Her eyes rolled, and she cried out nonsensical praise again. He sought out her g-spot, pressing firmly when he felt that bumpy ridge of flesh. A low growl left her, and her legs pulled further apart, granting him better access to her pretty snatch. He brought his thumb up to frig her clit and was pretty sure he had her very close to the edge. Using his other hand, he slid up her taut belly and cupped the underside of her breast. He stretched his fingers out to pinch her nipple between the first knuckles of his pointer and middle fingers, giving it a little twist.

"So close!" Her voice was husky as she cheered him on. "So close, Charlie," she breathed. "Please don't stop…harder!" Doing his best not to lose the rhythm, he moved so he was kneeling between her legs. The hand that had been fondling her nipple took over the clit torture, so he could up the pace with his other hand. He was starting to feel just a smidge reluctant, worried he might hurt her. One look at her face, though, told him she was enjoying herself immensely. Her lips were slightly parted, her brow was crinkled, her eyes were squeezed shut, and her head was thrown back. She met the push-pull of his thrusts with undulations from her hips, wildly seeking her release.

Charlie was pretty sure he had never been in bed with someone quite so uninhibited. He decided he liked it – very much. "Oh, Gods!" she keened.

"Yeah?" he asked as her hips gave an erratic jerk.

"Yeah! ...Yeah!" she mewled. Her entire body curved as she came apart for him, trembling her release. Her pussy sucked at his fingers madly. He continued to play her clit until she was jerking uncontrollably beneath him as she tried to get away from his playful torture.

"You're bloody gorgeous when you come undone, love," he murmured as he settled over her, angling his heavy erection to line up with her overflowing entrance.

"I'm starting to believe that statement," she answered, gasping. Her voice was raw from her unrestrained vocalizations. He paused for just a brief second, pondering her response before shaking it off and pushing himself inside her.

They both let out a shaky breath when he was fully sheathed in her heat. Her walls gripped him tightly and her forehead fell to his shoulder with a sigh of satisfaction. He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple before moving his mouth to her ear. "You feel bloody amazing, love," he told her, pulling out before thrusting back in with moderate force.

"Ah! You too, Charlie," she answered with a gasp, meeting his next thrust. "Harder," she begged softly. "Don't hold back."

Charlie readjusted himself to have better control before sitting back on his haunches. He wrapped her legs around his waist and surged forward, crashing into her cervix. She gave a yelp, which turned into a hiss of pleasure, so he continued. Holding her hips for leverage, he upped his speed until he was slamming into her so hard and fast he worried he might bruise her. He definitely had to be bruising her hips with his grip. She seemed completely oblivious, though, meeting him with abandon, thrust for thrust. She spilled broken, fragmented praises to urge him on. He fell forward onto his forearms, changing the angle and sliding a hand under her lower back to jerk her into him with each drive.

Hermione's vocalizations were almost feral and extremely flattering. He watched as her arms pulled, and jerked, and twisted – trying to break free from his charm. It seemed to delight her that she couldn't, and it appeared to be the cause of her complete abandonment to him. It was intoxicating, having so much control over this witch who always seemed to dominate everyday life.

Sliding a hand between them, he sought out her clit and began to work it furiously, determined to bring her with him in the end. She groaned and gnashed her teeth, back arching in time with his thrusts. At some point, she planted her feet flat on the mattress and rolled up to meet him, changing the angle and penetration depth. Charlie had to bite his lower lip hard and start reciting famous Quidditch players, determined to get her there again. He crashed down over her, holding his weight on one forearm and latching onto one taunting nipple as her other breast bounced with the force of their coupling.

"Yes! I'm goi – ungghhhh!" She thrashed beneath him in ecstasy and he followed quickly behind her, his bollocks screaming their relief as he poured himself into her before collapsing on top of her, breathing heavy.

She didn't seem to mind his weight. In the very least, she said nothing about it when he pushed himself up after he had time to catch his breath. He felt around before finding his wand and undoing the charm to give her hands back to her.

Hermione immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her, kissing him long and deep for many minutes. She played with his hair and brushed his cheeks and neck with gentle, soothing fingers. Wiping away sweat, her touch left a trail of heat in its wake.

Charlie was positive he had never worked so hard during sex in his life, but her orgasms had seemed quite intense and his had been astounding. Her touch as they kissed and helped each other to calm was intoxicating. He thought all this with a voice in the back of his mind telling him he would never get to sleep with this witch again.

"That was incredible, love," he murmured a few minutes later. He was on his back, Hermione curled into his side, her right cheek resting over his heart. "You were incredible."

There was quiet for a little bit and then she shifted, her head rolling onto his shoulder. She looked up at him. "It was very good," she agreed sweetly.

He grinned down at her, the voice he had heard before was now teasing him that he had been one hundred percent correct. This was a one-time deal for her. "But?" he prompted, smiling and cocking an eyebrow to show her that he wasn't offended.

She returned his smile sadly. "But nothing, really." She gave a one shouldered shrug. "It was the best straight forward sex I've ever had, once we got on the same page." Her tone was humble and honest, and he felt himself preen a little bit.

"But...?" he urged again.

She rolled her eyes and gave a huff. "But I don't think we should do this again," she answered truthfully. "I think, in the end, we'd just end up hurting each other."

He studied her for a moment, feeling slightly disappointed, before giving a nod. Something told him he agreed with her, so why push it? She was part of his family, no need to make things awkward at get-togethers.

"Stay, though?" she asked, snuggling back into him, and tangling a leg with his. "Just for tonight?"

"Yeah, love," he agreed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Just for tonight."

Charlie seemed unperturbed by their odd conversation, which just made Hermione all the more comfortable to be snuggled up with a man she had basically just turned down. Seemingly, he felt the same. Within minutes he was snoring lightly. She smiled into his chest and wandlessly summoned the blankets up around them.

She shouldn't have worried about how things would go with Charlie tonight. He was just too laid back, too much of a go-with-the-flow personality to be bothered by anything out of his control. She was grateful for that.

Hermione hadn't lied to him. It had been the best sex she had ever had – outside The Dungeon, that was. He had gotten her off twice, all though the poor chap had had to work terribly hard for each of them. It had touched her that he had felt she was worth the time. It had also made her feel more confident when he hadn't made her feel uncomfortable about her bedroom desires. He was the first man, outside of the realm of Dominants she had scened with, who had taken her desires and rolled with them to please her.

If she didn't know what sex could be like under the hand of a Dom, she would have grabbed onto him for dear life and hoped he'd never walk away. As it were, however, he had given her the answer she had been looking for throughout the last three weeks.

She wanted to be Dominated sexually.

She wanted to be a sexual submissive.

She needed someone to take over in intimate situations.

She needed to release control and not have to think or plan in this _one_ aspect of her life.

She wanted Lucius Malfoy to train her.

The last was the most surprising, yet unsurprising, discovery she had made this evening. She was comfortable with Lucius, and he had been nothing but kind to and protective of her. Lucius knew how she felt about Snape, and he would help her work through it. There was a genuine, honest affection between them. Lucius made her feel safe and cherished, not to mention sexy and turned on. He would do right by her.

Part of Hermione wished she had told him yes almost six weeks ago. It made her cringe, thinking of how much time she had wasted trying to experience and then (when the experiences turned sour) figure out where her head was. She could be so much further along in the process. And maybe – just maybe – she wouldn't have pushed Snape away.

Suddenly, she couldn't wait for lunch tomorrow.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To see photos that inspired the negligee in this chapter, find us on FB or Tumblr:
> 
> Facebook: www.facebook.com/snowand.lissa.7
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> Tumblr: LissaDream AND SnowBlind12


	13. Chapter Thirteen

* * *

** Chapter Thirteen **

* * *

Christmas at the Manor had been the usual affair. Christmas was hard for all of them, but especially for the Malfoy’s. They always missed Narcissa more severely this time of the year. Since her death, the day was a more subdued and reflective gathering. In light of this, Lucius had taken on the tradition of giving the house elves time off on Christmas day. Less kitchen staff meant a less elaborate meal, but this suited the wizards. The food was always followed by liquor and cigars and conversation until they were all quite drunk. Often there were memories shared that caused sullen silences, but mostly there was laughter.

Draco had excused himself in the latest hours of the evening, citing a pretty girl he had plans with. With the younger man gone, Lucius and Snape’s conversation turned towards a pretty, curly-haired Gryffindor.

“You still haven’t sought her out,” Lucius sighed, watching the amber contents of his tumbler avidly as he swirled the glass. He was seated in a large wingback chair in front of the roaring fire that was blazing in the drawing room brazier. One of his legs were crossed over the other knee and he held a lit cigar in his other hand. Snape looked at him silently, there was guilt in his eyes even if his face was smooth as glass.

 

Lucius sighed again. “Severus, you’re going to be too late. She asked after you, you know? When I ran into her while I was out shopping on Saturday.”

 

“And how is the Doll of the Dungeon?” Snape drawled, a bit sarcastically. Lucius gave him a sour look and Snape cringed inwardly.

 

Okay, yes. His anger with himself and his embarrassment for reading the situation completely wrong had prevented him from seeking out Hermione. At least a half of dozen times in the last three weeks he had picked up a handful of floo powder, promising himself he was going to toss it in the fire place and call on her. He intended to ask her for lunch, or dinner, or coffee, or to go for a walk in the park…to come see him. _Anything_ – it really wouldn’t have mattered what they had done, he just needed to talk to her. Every time he had frozen solid, fearful to see the hurt in her eyes again. Fearful to see her anger and disappointment. Fearful to see her dejection at his rejection of her. Would she even consent to speak with him, let alone meet him somewhere?

 

He sighed. Severus Snape was a brave man in every way – every way except for communicating his feelings, wants, and desires on an emotional level. If self-expression was involved, he was the biggest craven in the entirety of the European continent. Maybe even the world. He thought back to that fateful night – the last time he had seen her – when he had screwed everything up. _She was right. I am a coward._

 

Lucius sighed at his friends’ sarcastic inquiry. “She seemed…sad,” he answered finally. Well, that bloody didn’t help the guilty feeling that had settled in Snape’s chest three weeks ago.

 

“I thought I’d wait for her to return to the club,” Snape said softly before taking a long drag on his cigar. He let the smoke out in a smooth release of breath. “Make sure she really wants to do the whole submissive thing before setting things right with her.”

 

The silence was deafening. “That’s a terrible idea,” his friend said eventually, looking at Snape as if he were mental. “What if she never comes back?”

 

“Then it wasn’t meant to be, was it?” Snape responded harshly. “I can’t be with a woman who isn’t a sexual submissive.” He set his drink down on the side table and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

 

“I was married to a woman for almost twenty years who wasn’t a sexual submissive,” Lucius countered.

 

“A _very_ understanding woman, Luc,” Snape snapped. “You and I both know how bloody lucky you were.” The break in conversation had them both ruminating silently for a moment.

 

“Your right, I do know how bloody lucky I was,” Lucius conceded softly. “You could be very lucky as well, Sev. A witch who is both a wife and sexually submissive? You really need to get your head out of your fucking arse.”

 

Snape let out a low growl and leaned forward to crush out his cigar stub. “I need to call it a night, Luc. I’m drunk and I don’t want to get into this with you right now.”

 

“I’m telling you, you’re waiting too long,” Lucius put his cigar in the tray and threw back the rest of his beverage before standing and gesturing Snape to exit the room. Snape led the way to the entrance hall and the fireplace there.

 

“Duly noted,” he growled. “If it bites me in the arse, you’ll be granted permission to tell me ‘I told you so.’ Happy?”

 

Lucius shook his head sadly, watching Snape take a handful of floo powder. “I’d be happier if you got the girl, Sev,” he answered gently. They locked eyes. After a moment, Snape gave a jerky nod.

 

“Soon,” he answered. “I’ll talk to her soon,” he promised. He tossed the powder into the grate. “See you tomorrow, Luc,” he told his friend before stepping into the grate. “The Dungeon, Snape’s quarters.”

 

He wasted no time moving through his dark, silent flat, stripping as he went. Moments later, he was beneath the punishingly hot spray of his shower, his forehead pressed against the cool tile. _How can you have fucking looked death in the face for almost twenty years straight and one little girl has you so messed up you can’t even make a bloody floo call?_ He was berating himself – no one beat Snape up better than Snape.

 

Roughly, he scrubbed at his body. He needed to take a sober up, or at least get a hangover potion and a bottle of water on his bedside. After rinsing away the smoke and grime of the day, he slammed the nozzle to turn the water off. Snape used a wandless incantation to dry himself and stalked naked through his apartment with a quick detour to his kitchen to gather the hangover potion and water. Right now, he just needed to be drunk.

 

He flopped into his unmade bed and tangled the sheets around his legs, his mind whirring with promises to himself. _Tomorrow, you idiot. Tomorrow you go to her. You tell her everything and apologize for what happened the last time you were with her. Tomorrow you tell her that not only will you agree to train her, you’ll bring Lucius in to assist so you don’t fuck it up. You also tell her that while you’re training her to be a sexual submissive, you’d like to see her on a personal level. You tell her that you felt the connection too, and that you want to see where it goes._ He sighed and rolled over, pulling a pillow against his chest. _Tomorrow._

* * *

Hermione was pleasantly surprised when Lucius owled her to let her know her apartment had been connected to his floo. This would make it much easier to go to the Manor. At twelve-thirty sharp, she stepped into the receiving room of the Malfoy Mansion. Lucius was waiting with a rare smile gracing his face to greet her.

In light of what she wanted to ask him, Hermione had taken great care in her appearance for their get together. She didn’t know if his offer was still good, but she felt confident that it was. She knew she had made the correct choice in dress when Lucius gazed at her appreciatively, visually raking her up and down before meeting her gaze with a twinkle in his eyes. “You look delectable, Doll.”

Hermione’s trembling hands smoothed down the silky fabric of the emerald green dress, which hugged her waist perfectly before flaring out into a simple knee length skirt. Her black cashmere, cardigan sweater was dainty and feminine and matched her black kitten heels. “Thank you, Lucius,” she replied, her smile slightly timid.

Lucius watched curiously as she somewhat nervously (and slightly more formally than a few days before) stepped over to him and kissed his cheek. He found he was a tinge disappointed by this change in her; he had expected a more playful and relaxed demeanor on her part for their holiday lunch.

Lucius took her hand, leading her into the foyer and down the hall to his study. His confusion confounded him even more when the young beauty beamed at Draco as she squealed in obvious glee at finding him present. She dashed over to the younger Malfoy, enveloping him in a crushing hug. “Such a great surprise!”

Draco hugged her back with equal excitement before pulling back to tease her. “Jeez, Beave, take it easy will ya?” He looked at his father with a rueful. “These witches, they get a taste and then they’re like groupies! They just can’t keep their hands off me!”

Lucius watched with a touch of longing when Hermione rolled her eyes and playfully slapped Draco on the shoulder. “Watch it, Ferret. I’ve learned how to give a good spanking and you are asking for it!”

Draco cocked his eyebrow in delightful contemplation. “If you think _that_ is going to deter me...” He playfully looked at his father, pointing at Hermione’s smirking face with his thumb. “Told you she was a Dominatrix in the making.”

Lucius watched with fascination when her eyes shot back to his own, a slight blush cascading her lovely features. An uncomfortable thought caused his heart to skip a beat _. Does she desire Draco?_

Before he had time to dwell on that unwelcome thought, Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out a box wrapped in sliver paper with a red bow. She stepped closer and handed it to him. “Happy Christmas, Lucius.” This time his heart skipped a beat for a very different reason. Her smile was soft and timid, yet so genuine.

His response came out slightly raspy from his concealed emotion. “Thank you, Hermione. There’s a little something under the tree that has your name on it as well.”

Hermione turned back to Draco. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here today, but I brought you something too. I was going to leave it with Lucius.” She handed what was obviously a bottle wrapped in green tissue paper to the outstretched hand of her childhood nemesis turned friend and recent romp-partner.

“Aww, thanks, Granger,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Lucius stood awkwardly for a moment. “How about we have a glass of eggnog before we eat?” He gestured to the sofa and chairs in front of the crackling fire. Draco stepped ahead, and Lucius placed his hand on Hermione’s lower back, guiding her to the sofa before handing out their drinks.

All three sat, an uncomfortable pause passing as they sipped their beverages. Hermione swallowed the thick and sweet cream drink before biting her bottom lip and looking at Lucius. “Well? Aren’t you going to open it?”

Lucius suddenly knew – he just knew – it would be a special gift, and he felt terrible knowing the bottle of elven berry wine he had purchased for her would not compare.

He stood and stepped over to the family tree in the corner of the room. It was the _family_ tree because it held the homemade ornaments of Draco’s childhood as well as those from Lucius and Narcissa’s childhoods, as well. The rest of the Manor held large, formally decorated trees that befitted the stateliness of such a dwelling. However, this tree was special and had stood in Narcissa’s drawing room every Christmas until that first dreadful one without her. Since then, it had adorned Lucius’ study every Christmas season.

Lucius reached under the evergreen and pulled out the blue bottle adorned with a simple gold ribbon around its neck. He walked back towards Hermione, willing himself to not look guilty for his thoughtless gift as he handed it to her.

She smiled at him and beamed as she read the label. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to try this! Luna has been raving about it. She says it’s the best wine she’s ever tasted.” Hermione stood and once again kissed his cheek. He subconsciously rejoiced that she seemed to have fallen back to her relaxed demeanor from Saturday. Whatever had her nervous earlier seemed to be far away from her thoughts now.

“You are most welcome, Hermione,” he replied with a hint of a smile. He sat back down on the opposite end of the sofa and peeled back the paper neatly. The box was bulging with what felt like something soft. He lifted the lid and pushed aside the red tissue to find an intricate, hand knitted scarf. When he lifted it out of the box, it felt like the softest thing he had ever touched. What was even better was that it smelled of her – fresh and clean and sweet with a hint of spice. It was steel grey in color and there was a small tag gracing one of its ends. _Hand knitted cashmere by the Doll of The Dungeon. Magically clean, only._

Hermione seemed almost apologetic when she shrugged. “I didn’t know what to get you. I mean, what do you give a man who can buy or acquire anything he wants with just the snap of a finger?” He was still looking at the scarf, a knot in his throat that she had _made_ something for him.

She continued, “It was so cold when I ran into you the other day, and I noticed you weren’t wearing a scarf.” Her voice was soft as she added demurely, “I thought it would match your eyes.” She scooted closer to him before reaching over and picking up the tail of the fabric that was closest to her. She held it up to his face, contemplating. “Ah, not quite as lovely a grey as your irises, but almost.”

She gently released the scarf and Lucius picked up the piece she had just been holding subconsciously before looking at her earnestly. “Thank you, Hermione. It’s beautiful, and I will wear it with pride.”

Lucius’ voice had come out formal, but Draco was anything but oblivious as to what had just transpired. He looked from his father to the Gryffindor. “Careful, Beave. You’re libel to make my father fall in love with you, and then you’ll be my step mummy.” Hermione giggled as she looked back at Draco.

Lucius could hear the two of them bantering and teasing each other, but he was too lost in his own thoughts to pay attention. He gently folded the scarf and placed it back in the box. It was the kind of thoughtful gift Narcissa would have given. It was sentimental, yet useful. Consideration and time had been put into its making. It had not been acquired by the mere _snapping of a finger_ , as Hermione had so eloquently put it. It touched him deeply that she had taken the time to make this for him. He took an inconspicuous, deep breath, willing his heart to stop pounding.

His thoughts were pulled back to his duty of being a host when he heard uncontrolled laughter. Laughter from his son like he had not heard in years. Hermione was also amused, giggling so hard she was bent at the waist, gripping her sides as though in pain. Lucius watched in amazement when Draco turned the bottle Hermione had given him up to his lips and took a swallow. Hermione roared with laughter once again when Draco suddenly stood with a stern facial expression and waved his hand as though speaking to a large crowd. “I can teach you to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death!”

Lucius’ jaw fell. The voice that came out was not his son’s. It was high-pitched, unlike anything he had ever heard. Lucius cocked his brow as he studied the label on the bottle in Draco’s hand. _Helium Champagne._

Draco had tears rolling down his cheeks and was laughing so hard he could barely stand. Hermione grabbed the bottle and took a swallow, remembering almost verbatim a scathing remark from her former professor. “That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger. Are you incapable of restraining yourself, or do you take pride in being an insufferable know-it-all?” Lucius found she sounded as ridiculous as Draco had and was stunned by the ludicrousness and absurdity of it.

Draco fell into his chair and kicked up his heels in pure blissful mirth as he guffawed loudly. Tears were now trickling down Hermione’s cheeks as well and Draco gestured from the bottle to his father, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Father, try it! You have to!”

Lucius raised his eyebrow. “Certainly not! What if your voice gets stuck that way? You’re both mad!”

Lucius felt old as he shook his head reproachfully at the two of them. “Give me that bottle before you hurt yourselves.” He stood and walked over to Draco. Draco held the champagne away from him. “No way, you can’t have this. Not unless you promise to give it back!”

Lucius’ eyes rolled up. “Yes, yes, I promise to give it back.” As soon as Draco relinquished his treasured gift, Lucius whispered as an afterthought. “Eventually.”

He walked to his desk and picked up his readers, putting them on to study the bottle.

Hermione watched the older Malfoy, finding he looked rather distinguished and sexy in glasses. She tossed a look at her still laughing cohort and then looked back at Lucius. She could see his lips moving as he read the ingredients and warnings aloud to himself.

When he was finished, he placed the bottle down, laying his glasses next to it before turning to her and giving her a slightly reproving stare.

Her reaction was instant. Hermione felt her breath hitch, her bottom lip was sucked into her mouth causing her upper teeth to automatically clamp down. She felt herself straighten a tad and had to resist the urge to look down and away.

Lucius had meant to merely tease her, but didn’t miss the subtle change in her demeanor. He knew immediately what he had done to cause it, she was missing the lifestyle. This simply proved how much. For her to react to something so minor…and so, dare he say, him – his personality?  Perhaps a well-placed gentle reminder would bring her back into the fold. He contemplated for about three seconds before deciding on a course of action. Now was not the right moment, and he let it pass.

“Who’s hungry?” He asked, his eyes moving from one twenty-something to the other.

Draco stood. “Yeah, let’s eat. Anything to get away from the vibes you two are putting off.”

Hermione was about to respond to Lucius’ question, but instead snapped her mouth shut at Draco’s words. She suddenly realized her thoughts were not as disguised as she had hoped. Then she comprehended that this wasn’t a terrible thing. On the contrary, it was a wonderful thing that they understood her so well and accepted her without question. After all, she had experienced tremendous sexual pleasure with both men. There was no point in disguising her reactions. These were probably the only two men in her life she could be completely open and honest with about her impulses and desires. Why should she be ashamed or embarrassed?

Feeling confident and reassured by her epiphany, she let a light chuckle escape her lips for Draco’s teasing comment.

Lucius once again escorted her as Draco walked ahead. The dining room was grand, and the large table was stunning. There was a huge centerpiece that was a combination of red poinsettia, white, fragrant magnolia with its beautiful dark green, glossy leaves. It was also combined with white orchids. Thankfully, their place settings were all together at one end of the table with Lucius sitting at the head.

After they were seated, Bentley and two other elves appeared with bowls and placed them on the charger plates at their seats. Hermione breathed in the delicious aroma of the creamy clam chowder and detected a hint of sherry. Warm, buttered rolls appeared on the bread plates and Bentley filled their glasses with white wine.

Hermione followed Lucius’ lead and lifted her glass with Draco following suit.  “To old acquaintances who have become new friends,” Lucius toasted. They tapped their goblets before each sipped their wine.

“To new friends who get _very_ acquainted,” Draco quipped, wiggling his eyebrows at Hermione. This caused her to laugh and Lucius to scold.

“That’s enough Draco, let’s have a meal where the conversation doesn’t lead to lewd remarks, shall we?”

Draco swallowed his first taste of soup and then looked at his father incredulously. “Where’s the fun in that?” He switched his glance to Hermione. “Besides, I’ll wager she doesn’t mind.”

Lucius was trying his soup and Draco chimed in before Lucius could swallow and reply. “Did you hear, Hermione? Rumor has it there’s a new Dominatrix who is joining the club.” He could barely contain his excitement and turned an irritated look at his father. “Snape and ole poker face over here won’t give anything away, though.” He rolled his eyes and imitated Snape’s voice. “It’s an infringement on her privacy to disclose her name.”

Hermione shrugged, looking from Draco to Lucius and back again. “Well, speaking from experience, I respect that, Draco. Whomever this woman is, she has the right to maintain her privacy and keep her identity a secret.” Hermione felt warmth creep over her when Lucius gave her an approving nod.

Draco sighed. “Yeah, but…Snape let it slip that she was in my year at Hogwarts.” He gave her a knowing look. “Which means she was in _your_ year as well, Beave.”

Hermione’s jaw fell as all propriety flew out the window. She put down her spoon as her mind raced with possible candidates. “I’ll bet it’s Susan Bones!”

Draco shook his head dismissively. “Nah, I don’t see it. I’m thinking one of the Patil twins. I mean they were always so quiet.” He looked at her and added, “Those are the ones that surprise you. They’re all quiet and shy and then they get behind closed doors and they…” He placed his hands on the sides of his head and moved them out as he made the sound of an explosion. “…totally blow your mind.”

Hermione nodded.” Yeah, you’re probably right!”

Lucius shook his head in dismay. He looked at Hermione and teased her, “What happened to respecting her privacy, Doll? Did you not just say she had the right to maintain her secret?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say you should disclose her identity, I was merely trying to guess whom it might be.” She looked back at Draco and was about to make another guess when Lucius spoke.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me, Miss Granger?” He internally rejoiced as his moment finally came. He maintained his Dominant stare and was pleased when she melted into a puddle of submissiveness right there at the table _. If only she would let me train her!_

Hermione’s jaw fell, and she blanched. “Oh, umm, sorry…Sir.”

After watching her squirm for a bit, Lucius smiled and then chuckled. “Relax, I’m teasing. It’s not like we are at the club.” His eyes grew alight as he continued in a Dominant and warning tone. “But if we were at The Dungeon right now? You would be over my knee.”

He watched appreciatively as a gentle blush crept over her skin and her mouth parted slightly with an inhaled breath. He sipped his wine and shook his head. “Deny it all you want, Doll. But your responses are so natural and so obvious to a trained eye. You are depriving yourself of an innate need.”  He leaned back, swirling the wine in his glass. “And you are depriving The Dungeon of a peach ripe for plucking.” He accentuated the “p” as he spoke each word, his gaze dancing down her form and back up again.

Draco let out a sigh, looking at his father. “Now, who’s turning the conversation in a lewd direction?”

Hermione’s heart was pounding, the effect of his words and demeanor had her insides trembling. She absently watched as Lucius and his son bantered about lunch conversation etiquette as her breathing and heart rate began to normalize. Lucius had proven his not so subtle point most effectively. She picked up her goblet and took a large swallow, re-grounding herself. Yes, Lucius Malfoy would do nicely. She really hoped his offer still stood.

When her focus returned to the wizards at the table, Draco was giving her a small smile. His soft tone matched the sincere expression of his eyes. “Father’s right, Hermione. I don’t know why you stopped coming to the club – it’s really not my business – but if it’s because you’re trying to convince yourself you aren’t a submissive or that you don’t need it?” He let out a mirthless laugh as he tossed his napkin on the table. “Don’t waste your time.” He shook his head. “You’ve had a taste now….and if you’re anything like me? You won’t be able to resist going back.” He picked up his glass.

Hermione was surprised, and admittedly, rather touched that Draco had spoken to her like this. She had been curious, so she asked, “When did you know, Draco? When did you have the first inkling you were a submissive?” She corrected herself. “Or a switch? I mean when did you first...”

Hermione trailed off when she noticed a brief flash of serious thought in his expression before he grinned. His eyes lit up as he interrupted her. “Well, you see. There was this book-nosed, know-it-all witch who fancied herself the defender of ferocious hippogriffs.” His grin turned lopsided and Hermione cocked an eyebrow as she smiled, knowing what he was going to say. “Out of nowhere, and without provocation, she punched me!” Draco sighed and got a dazed look on his face. “It was so frustrating and so bloody hot! I wanted more. I tried to torment her into punching me again for years! But alas, she was a one and done, teasing, heartless kind of witch.”

Hermione laughed. “ _That_ felt good, not gonna lie.”

When Lucius joined in their laughter, Hermione turned on him. “And you! You almost had an innocent animal sentenced to death!”

Lucius leaned back in his chair, amused and holding his hands up defensively. “Hey, all I knew was what my injured child told me! He had witnesses as well.”

Hermione huffed with indignation. “Honestly, if Harry and I hadn’t been under that damn cloak, poor Buckbeak would have met his death.” She looked at the two wizards, neither one was contrite, instead they seemed to be enjoying her display.

She continued her lecture. “Seriously!” She focused on Lucius as she pointed at Draco. “He was thirteen, you were a grown ass wizard!”

Lucius looked at Draco and said conspiratorially, “You’re right. She _is_ rather alluring when she gets herself all fired up. I can see the appeal.”

With that, Draco pushed his chair back and stood. “Well, my work here is done.” He pretended like he was looking at a list.” Full stomach? Check. Fired up Gryffindor? Check.”

Hermione threw her napkin at him, causing him to duck and chortle.

Draco stepped around the table and grabbed Hermione’s hand, pulling her up into a hug. “Don’t be a stranger, ok?” he whispered in her ear. Pulling back from her, he looked at Lucius. “I’ll see you later this week.”

After Draco walked out of the dining room, Lucius looked at Hermione, smiling and holding his hand out to her as he joined her in standing. “Come, let’s go back into the study and visit some more.”

  
Hermione looked from his hand to him and back again, utter nervousness overcoming her just as it had when she had first arrived at the manor. He tilted his head to the side, raising his eyebrows in question. He watched her take a deep breath and his stomach jumped. She wasn’t nervous for nothing, he could only guess what was coming.

 

Lucius tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and led her back to the warmth and comfort of his study. He offered her another drink and she consented before wandering off to look at the tree more closely.

 

Hermione adored the tree that was in Lucius’ study. It was obviously very personally decorated. All the ornaments were clearly handmade by little hands. Some looked many, many years old. There were ones with moving pictures of a smiling, young Draco – younger than she had ever known him. Handprints, finger prints, glitter…almost Muggle-esque in their nature and design. Perhaps some things just crossed the culture divide.

 

“Hermione,” Lucius’ voice was low and right in her ear. It caused her to jump and her hand fluttered to rest over her fast beating heart.

  
“You startled me!” she chuckled as she turned to face him. He didn’t have any drinks in his hands, and his eyes were dark. She sucked in a breath as heat bloomed through her body.

 

“I apologize, that was not my intention,” he murmured in his velvety voice. “This awkward nervousness is not you, Doll.” His large hands slid around her waist, causing her breath to hitch in her throat.  
  
“I’m sorry, I just…” she trailed off. “Never mind. I’m fine, I’ll be fine.” She gave him a weak smile.  
  
He studied her face for a moment before releasing her. “I’d like you to serve our drinks, Hemione,” Lucius’ voice had taken on an authoritative tone. Without a second thought, Hermione moved away from him to collect the drinks he had made. When she turned back, he was sitting in the leather chair near the fire.

 

She approached him, and he indicated she put the drinks on the end table. “Sit at my feet on your knees. Face me,” he commanded, pointing to a spot to the left of him. Hermione started trembling slightly as she felt herself grow wet. Merlin, that tone of voice was it for her. She knew what he was doing, and she was grateful for his intentions and determination to help her figure herself out. He didn’t need to, though, she had already made her decision.

 

She easily slipped to the floor into a kneeling position before sitting her bum back on her ankles. Lucius’ hand slipped into her hair and guided her head to rest against his thigh. Hermione allowed his direction, reveled in it. Her eyes slid shut as his fingers made tiny circles against her temple. A breath she hadn’t even realized she had been holding leaked through her nose as her body positively melted into his leg, his touch turning her into a puddle.

 

“I don’t want you to move,” he directed. “Stay here. We are going to talk just like this.”

 

She didn’t open her eyes. “M’kay, sir.”

 

He almost laughed aloud at her complete surrender to him so quickly. “You’re lying to yourself, Doll,” he told her. “You need this, why fight it?”

  
“I know, sir,” she murmured, not opening her eyes. “I don’t want to fight it anymore.” He’d taken her anxiety away. “I came here today with the intention of asking you to be my training Dominant.”

 

His petting paused for a just a split second before his thumb smoothed a caress over her high cheek bone. She literally purred at the touch and he felt himself start to grow hard.

 

It was quiet for so long, that Hermione reluctantly let her eyes flutter open, so she could see his face. His expression made her breath catch. It was a combination of joy and fear. “That is, if the offer still stands, sir. I just…I feel so safe with you.”

 

Lucius had to swallow hard as he forced his features to not betray the emotion he felt at her words of praise. Safe. That was a huge part of trust between a submissive and her Master, and she already felt that way with him. He closed his eyes.

 

“Of course, my offer still stands, Doll,” he murmured, pulling his hand away from her face. “Come up here.” He patted his lap and Hermione quickly moved to comply. Lucius wrapped his arms around her waist and guided her head to lay against his shoulder. She was so little, he felt like he had a pixie in his lap. He started a slow, methodical stroking of her back, his fingers slipping easily over the satiny feel of her dress.  
  
His first lesson already clear in his mind, he began to instruct her. “Your first assignment is to think about what it is you need from me as a mentor and as your Dominant. When we meet again to discuss our contract, I will want to hear your thoughts.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” she answered softly.

 

“I’m more than honored that you have decided to accept my tutelage, Doll,” he murmured against the delicate shell of her ear. Lucius cupped her neck, running his thumb over the tender skin under her jaw. His other hand was still wrapped around her waist, smoothing firm circles at the base of her spine. Hermione shifted, and he felt her shiver and couldn’t help the evil little smirk that crossed his face. He lowered his voice, deliberately making it huskier. “You’ve been exquisite in your compliance and reactions since we entered our little game after lunch.” Her body was humming with electricity, it made him feel extraordinarily powerful to have this control over her. “Do you have any needs that you would like me to consider before I send you home?”

 

He could feel her body quiver from the tickle of his breath against her ear, her skin scrumptiously smooth under his touch. She let out a soft little moan and nuzzled her nose against his neck. “Would you spank me, sir?” she whispered. “I really need a spanking.”

 

Internally, he groaned heavily, but let no outward reaction show. “Up you get, go bend over the settee. Palms on the cushions, hips supported by the arm, feet shoulder width apart.” Lucius had to stifle a guffaw when Hermione all but leapt out of his lap. She assumed the commanded position and waited patiently, not looking up even when Lucius remained seated for many minutes. Simply watching her, he picked up his glass and casually sipped at it while observing her hips dance impatiently as she attempted to wait him out. It was obvious her excitement was building, and she was getting antsy.

 

“When you are still, Miss Granger, we’ll begin,” he drawled lazily, enjoying the show very much. Instantly she froze, and Lucius studied her as she tried to reign in her eagerness, his cock stiffening as he continued with his drink. After three minutes of watching Hermione play statue, he set his drink down with an audible _clink_ , smirking when this made her jump. He was pleased she had been able to keep her mouth shut. Lucius had a sneaky suspicion that talking out of turn would probably be one of her biggest infractions. He would help her break that habit if it proved to be a problem, however.

  
Her jitters stilled again when Lucius placed a warm hand on her lower back. Both of his hands traced down the silky material of her skirt before slipping underneath and flipping it over her back. She was wearing red lace boy shorts under her Slytherin green dress. He pulled them up into the crack of her ass to expose the smooth, creamy globes of her buttocks. “Very festive, Miss Granger,” he said with a smirk. “Let’s see if we can get your skin to match them.” She didn’t answer. _Good girl,_ he thought.  
  
“Count,” he demanded, dropping a clap onto her right buttock. It had been a very light slap, his palm cupped to make it sound worse than it was. It startled her, probably the sound more than the sting.

 

“One,” she squeaked. Another.

  
“Two,” she sighed this time, arching her back in preparation for the next. “Three.” Her voice was now firm and controlled. She was already calming.

 

Lucius was enchanted. Each slap was consecutively harder than the last, but none so hard as to be unpleasant. He was using this spanking to make a very direct point; working her up into a heated frenzy was his end goal. He delighted in the whimpers that escaped her before she called out each number in turn. As her creamy skin turned pink, then red, and then dark crimson, her tone deepened and turned husky with need. After thirty hits, Hermione’s hips rolled to meet each slap and Lucius could see her arousal in the darkening of her knickers where it clung wetly to her quim. _Bloody fucking Merlin_. He was starting to doubt his ability to follow through with his first lesson, but it was one that needed to be established.

 

“Thirty-eight!” Hermione groaned, panting. This spanking was turning her into a pile of needy goo. She was going to spontaneously combust. “Thirty-nine.” The last hit was the hardest on her over inflamed skin. “Ow! Forty!” Her breathing was heavy, and she sighed in a mixture of relief and need when, instead of another blow, Lucius rubbed her backside. Gently, he smoothed away the sting, but this only increased her now desperate need for release. She arched into his hand like a cat, whimpering.

 

“Mmm,” Lucius’ rumbled thickly. “It appears you quite enjoyed yourself Miss Granger. How do you feel?”

 

“Good sir,” she said shakily. “Very turned on.”

 

“Ah, that is a problem.” He couldn’t keep the humor hidden. “Come, Doll, we’ll fetch your coat.” Lucius helped her straighten and smooth down her skirt, almost laughing aloud at the pained perplexation that carved her features. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to calm himself. He was incredibly aroused as well, but alas, the lesson to be taught was more important. “Is something wrong, Doll?”

 

“Well, uh. It’s just that…” She trailed off, her gaze dropping to the floor.

 

“I asked you a question.” It was a warning and she jerked her gaze back to his with wide eyes.

 

“I just thought that we might…” Her words failed again and Lucius took pity on her. she was confused and feeling needy and he had done this on purpose.

 

“Ah,” he sneered at her. “I see. Well, you must remember I agreed to _consider_ your needs, not to meet them, yes?” She pursed her lips and he waited with bated breath to see if she’d slip.

 

“Yes, sir,” she answered eventually, a pretty blush coloring her features. She was embarrassed…how delightful.

 

“Your first lesson, Miss Granger.” He slid an arm around her shoulders, and led her to where her cloak hung near the fire place. “ _I_ control your pleasure _. I_ decide when you orgasm. _I_ decide when we fuck.” Lucius held the cloak open for her, she slipped her arms in without meeting his gaze.

 

When she was swathed in her jacket, he tilted her head up to meet his eyes. “Do you understand?”

 

She nodded, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Yes, sir.”

 

“Very good. You will prove it.” He brought his hands up to cup under her jaw on both sides of her head, tangling the tips of his fingers in the hair behind her ears and placing light pressure on her throat with his thumbs. He locked his stare to hers. “No orgasms until after we meet to properly formalize our agreement.”

 

Her eyes popped comically wide and he couldn’t help but release the bubble of laughter caused by her expression. “Oh, um…I…” She dropped her gaze when he wouldn’t let her pull her chin from his grasp.

 

“You…what, Miss Granger?” His voice was edged with warning. She was not to argue with him.

 

“I can’t remember the last time I went a day without at least one orgasm, sir,” she said very quietly, not meeting his eyes. He wanted to growl, wanted to shove her back over the sofa and take her roughly from behind. Wanted to make her scream his name. Not even he had realized what a sexual being Miss Granger truly was until that moment.

 

“Then it seems as though you have a good challenge on your hands, yes?” He intoned, smirking as he cocked his head to the side. He slid his thumbs a little more firmly across her throat, making her swallow hard. He could feel the acceleration of her pulse. “Look at me.” She did, and he continued, “You will not come, I can meet with you Thursday evening…ah!” He stopped her before she could interrupt, interpreting her wild-eyed stare and deep breath correctly. She had been about to protest. “It is only two days. A little over forty-eight hours. You _will not_ come, Miss Granger, or you will be punished. You _will_ tell me if you come, do you understand?”

 

“Yes, sir.” Her tone sounded dejected and her eyes held a hint of fury. Lucius shook his head in amusement. “You will be fine,” he promised, then lowered his voice. “I would like to kiss you goodbye, Doll. May I?”

 

Her eyes softened. “Yes, please, sir,” she whispered, he lowered his lips to hers in a gentle, sweet kiss. Lightly, he ran his tongue over her lower lip. Hermione opened her mouth automatically, but he pulled reluctantly away and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead before releasing her neck.

 

“Good day, Miss Granger.” Lucius knew how gravelly his voice was, if he didn’t make her leave quickly, he wouldn’t be able to control his reactions. She had closed her eyes during their kiss, and they blinked dazedly open.

 

“Right,” she said, obviously befuddled. “G’day, sir.”  
  
Lucius held out the container filled with floo powder. “Come back here Thursday at eight, I’ll have dessert and tea. Make sure you eat dinner first.”

 

“Yes, sir,” she agreed, taking a handful of the greyish powder.

 

“Go now,” he insisted when she just stood there, staring at him as floo powder seeped through her fingers.

 

“Right,” she shook her head to clear it. “Right, good-bye.” Then she was gone.

 

When the flames returned to their normal color, Lucius stood staring into them for a long moment. He was glad he’d had her leave through the study instead of the foyer. If he had had to take Hermione through the house, he would have wound up fucking her against a wall somewhere. He was painfully hard. Not only that, but…

 

“How long have you been standing in the hall, Severus?” Lucius raised his voice only slightly, so his eavesdropping friend could hear him.

 

“I didn’t realize you had a guest until I was about halfway down the hall,” Severus’ voice was cool and collected as he stepped into the room, but Lucius caught the undercurrent of anger. “I didn’t silence my boots until then.”

 

“They are what gave you away, my friend,” Lucius gave Snape a sad smile. “I told you that you waited too long.”

 

Snape helped himself to a tumbler of firewhiskey. “It appears you were correct,” he answered

 

“You are angry with me.” It wasn’t a question. “If you had not wanted me to accept her as a submissive trainee, I gave you the opportunity to tell me so.”

 

Snape downed the shot of whiskey in one and poured another immediately. “I’m not angry,” he snarled. Lucius knew better, however. Snape’s cheeks were tinged pink, and he was holding his shoulders stiff and square.

 

“Bullshit,” he snapped back at his ink-haired friend. “You’re pissed. The only thing I’m not sure of is whether you’re pissed at me, or at yourself.”

 

“Combination,” Snape growled. “I came here today to ask if you would consent to training her with me, to ensure I didn’t fuck it up.”

 

Lucius’ face froze in an unreadable mask. “I will not tell her that I cannot train her. I will also not ask to bring you in. However, if you go to her and pretend you know nothing of what just transpired here, and she takes you up on your offer, I will be happy to assist the both of you.”

 

“Fuck it,” Snape groused. “This is what I wanted from the beginning. I’ll deal with it.”

 

There was silence for a long minute. “You will not fuck her without my permission,” Lucius said in a slow, firm voice. “I will not give permission for at least the next six weeks.” He was not surprised when Snape’s eyes locked on his, disbelief obvious.

 

“She has a lot to learn,” Lucius continued. “I won’t have her affections for you confusing her. While I train her, she is mine. You will not interfere.”

 

The color in Snape’s cheeks was rising and Lucius knew he was about to blow. “When did you realize you wanted her as more than a submissive to train?” Snape asked in a dangerous voice.

 

Lucius kept his shock in check. _What the hell did you just give away?_ “What the fuck are you talking about, Snape?” Lucius grumbled.

 

“You know I can’t fucking compete with you for a woman, Malfoy,” Snape sneered at his best friend with utter loathing. “Your beauty wins out every time.”

 

“You’re wrong, Snape,” Lucius snapped at his friend. “She’s crazy about you. So much so, it took her six weeks to finally agree to have _me_ as her mentor. _You_ are the one who kept messing up, even with my help.”

 

“That’s right, Severus Snape…the perpetual fuck-up. I won’t compete with you, Lucius!” Snape slammed his empty glass down on the counter. “Keep her. I don’t give a flying shit. I will not play games.”

 

Lucius was sick of this side of his friend. He had endured weeks of Snape’s self-loathing and lack of confidence. “Pull your head out of your arse, Snape. For all I care, you can go to her right now. Apologize to her – like I told you to three bloody weeks ago. Date her. Kiss her. Sleep in the same bed. All this is fine. However, she will _not_ fuck you and you will _not_ fuck her until I say it’s okay. _I_ am her Dominant – _not you_ – and that is _your_ fault, Snape. _Yours_. When I say she’s ready, and you both still want each other, I will back off. You have my word.”

 

“How can I trust a thing you’re saying right now when you so obviously want her for yourself?” Snape snarled.

 

“You can trust me because we’ve been in this bloody miserable thing called life together for the last thirty-five years, Severus!” Lucius thundered back at his friend. “I have never betrayed you. I have never done anything to make myself untrustworthy in your eyes. You are my best friend. I would never do anything to purposely betray that trust!”

 

“I can’t do this right now.” Snape spun on his heel and stalked across the room.

 

“Go ahead and run, for now,” Lucius called after him. Snape froze, and Lucius continued. “I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk, Sev. Stew, be angry with yourself for being wrong. Be angry with me for being right. But don’t you dare take it out on that young woman, Severus. I will protect her from your venom. She’s mine to protect until she’s been properly trained. You would do the same if the roles were reversed.”

 

Snape said nothing, just disappeared from the room. Lucius could hear his dragon hide boots snap against the stone floor with every furious stride. Snape would calm down and apologize. They’d had these kinds of fights before. It was true that their arguments had never been caused by a witch, because in the past they had simply shared the felines they both desired. However, they had certainly fought, and this would not be the last.  
 

Lucius would watch out for Snape and he would protect Hermione and keep her safe physically and emotionally. His only worry was – who was going to protect him in this mess?


	14. Chapter Fourteen

* * *

  **Chapter Fourteen**

* * *

Hermione was nervous. She checked her reflection one more time before heading out the door of her office and Apparating to the Manor. She had done it. She had asked Lucius to train her, to be her mentor in the world of D/s. He had said yes, and had seemed extremely pleased.

She was relieved he had said yes, but the truth was she was also a bit anxious about what might change between them. Her relationship with Lucius had changed since first seeing him at The Dungeon and scening with him. He wasn't just a Dominant in her eyes, he had become a friend and someone she liked being around. Hermione was concerned she would lose that part of him. While she desired his mentorship and instruction, she also desired the soft belly underneath all that role play.

Bucking up her courage, she Apparated and found herself approaching the intimidating structure that was home to her soon to be Dominant. How Lucius could stand living here – essentially alone – she could not understand, but he seemed to like it. After all, it was all he had ever known. It was interesting to her that Draco had chosen a different path. Draco was enjoying the life of a young cosmopolitan bachelor; living in a plush high rise flat overlooking Diagon Alley.

She smoothed down her wool coat as she approached the door. It was opened automatically by a different house elf from the one she had seen on Boxing Day. The elf took her coat and led her to Lucius' study. She felt her nerves settle immediately when Lucius stood from behind his desk and greeted her with a warm smile.

He stepped around the large desk and took her hand before kissing her softly on the forehead. "Come, let's sit on the sofa. Would you like some sparkling water?"

Hermione set her purse on his desk and then gripped her skirt with her free hand. "Uh, no. No, thank you."

Lucius cocked a brow at her obvious anxiety. "Relax, Doll. It's just me and this is going to be fun. It's why you want to do this, right?"

She let out a steadying sigh, "You're right. I guess, I just don't know what to expect is all."

Lucius led her to the sofa and sat next to her. "First of all, tonight is casual. Tonight, we discuss what we are trying to accomplish. We discuss what you want from me as your mentor and Dominant. We'll be sure our expectations are in alignment. Does that sound like a good start to you?"

Hermione smiled widely with appreciation. "Yes, Lucius. Thank you."

He leaned back on the sofa, assessing her. "So, tell me what it is you want from me. What is it you are hoping to accomplish through our time together?"

Hermione took another steadying breath and met his eyes. "I want what you offered several weeks ago. I want to learn the ins and outs of this lifestyle and be properly introduced to it. I feel like I jumped into the deep end before learning to swim. I want to start over and learn proper etiquette. I want to be a good submissive, and I want to be introduced to new experiences with someone I know and trust."

Lucius listened to her, noticing the slight ringing of her hands, the chewing of her bottom lip, the flare of insecurity. He would enjoy building her confidence. "First of all – and this is important – there is no standardized book of rules all submissives must follow. Each Dominant is different. I can train you to be the perfect submissive in my eyes, but you may find yourself submitting to someone in the future who has different needs and desires from my own. You would then have to learn from him or her how to please." He could tell she was concentrating on every word he was saying. "Does that make sense?"

She nodded. "Yes. Yes it does."

"I can introduce you to many aspects of submission and masochism. Then there is bondage and discipline." Lucius watched her for moment, noticing the slight flush of her skin and the bounding pulse point on her inviting slender neck. He reached his hand forward and gently brushed the back of his hand up her neck to her cheek. He spoke softly, continuing to stroke her cheek delicately. "Tell me, Hermione. Is it the pain you enjoy? Is it being bound and at another's mercy? Is it simply handing over control and not having to decide? Is it sex? Is it servitude?" Her reaction to the combination of his provocative words, tender touch, and seductive voice caused his own blood to boil.

Hermione swallowed heavily. The muscle behind her chest wall was pounding and she felt flashes of heat throughout her body. Even her toes felt warm. _Gods, why did I wait so long to say yes to this man?_ Her mind was swimming with visions of the picture he had just painted. Her voice came out raw. "Yes, Lucius. Yes, to all of it."

Lucius chuckled at her choked response. "Well, we will find out…won't we?" He drew in a deep breath, cleansing his mind of the various visions of her his brain had conjured. Years of experience at controlling his mind and his libido is what protected her from his impulse to bend her over his desk at this very moment.

His tone turned from seductive to factual as he continued to reign himself in. "I have a vast background of experiences and am quite qualified to show you the ropes… so to speak. What I'm not willing to partake in – in other words, my hard limits – I can at least share what I know. Perhaps I'll have you session with someone who is experienced in the areas I am not comfortable with, should you have the desire. This would be done in my presence and you would be under my care. You need to know; your safety will _always_ be my number one priority. No matter what."

Lucius stood and poured them each a glass of sparkling water. He walked back to her and handed her the crystal goblet. He sat back down next to her and was pleased when she began to drink. He could tell by her dry lips that she was parched, despite having declined the beverage initially. Frankly, he needed the cooling off, whether she did or not.

"With me so far?"

She smiled. "Yes, so far so perfect."

He returned her smile. "Well, now we get to my requirements. These few bits are non-negotiable." His expression matched the severity of his words. "If you agree to be my submissive, training or not, you are mine. You will do as I say, you will obey me within in the confines of your limits. You will not submit to another without my permission and, if our agreement involves sexual intercourse, neither of us will have sex with another without discussing it first. You will be mine twenty-four/seven, Hermione. What I mean is, while you are training, I may have assignments or tasks for you to complete that fall outside of our time together."

When he noticed her furrowed brow, he recognized her obvious confusion. It was a common misconception by many within the lifestyle and without. "Not all contracts involve sex, Doll. Some in the lifestyle are married and are monogamous to their spouses who are not in the lifestyle. You can imagine the various reasons individuals might not want to engage in intercourse. People come into this world for a plethora of reasons. Hermione," He took her hand in his, "that being said, it is my hope and my impression that sex is something you desire in our…agreement. However, I will respect your wishes if it's not."

Hermione felt ridiculous for feeling shy as she met his questioning gaze. "I would like for…sex to be part of our arrangement."

He nodded. "I would like that, as well." He brushed her face tenderly and leaned in to kiss her forehead.

Confusion resolved, Hermione's expression became curious. "What kind of tasks?" she asked, continuing their conversation.

"Well, I may dictate what I would like you to wear under your skirt to work on a given day. It's possible I might show up at your office, under the guise of asking you to tea, to check your obedience."

Hermione bit her lip and blushed deliciously, causing Lucius to chortle quietly. "I promise I would never command anything that would interfere with your work performance. I respect your career and your success, and I would never demand anything that would jeopardize that. For instance, I would never tell you to wear spandex pants to the Ministry."

Hermione laughed at the ridiculous notion. "Well, that's good, because I would never do it."

He continued, "As your Dominant, I will take care of you. If I feel you aren't getting enough rest, I might command a certain bedtime. If I feel you aren't getting proper nutrition, I might demand you see a magical nutritionist and follow his or her guidance. In other words, I need to know you are safe and healthy. For me having a submissive is not just time in the playroom, it's much deeper than that. It's not something I take lightly, which is why I've had so few and have only trained two."

Hermione's expression became concerned. "What if you feel I'm not getting enough sleep, but my work prevents me from meeting your demand?"

Lucius regarded her shrewdly. "I will not interfere with your work, Hermione. If you truly need to work late, then that is what you should do. However, if you have worked late several nights in a row, I may insist you not come to the club on a planned night. Instead, I might demand you sleep at the Manor, where I can be sure you get a good night's rest." He could tell by her expression she had not been anticipating this type of interest on his behalf. He gave her a moment to think about it. If she was going to object, he needed to know now.

He stood and walked to his desk where he opened a drawer and pulled out a book before returning to hand it to her. Hermione opened it to find the pages blank and looked up at him questioningly.

He sat back down beside her. "I'll require you to keep this journal. In it you'll record what you eat and drink and when you sleep. Occasionally, I might require you to jot down some thoughts after a particularly intense scene or I might have a command for you. When you write in your journal, it will also appear in its twin, which I am in possession of. When I write in mine, it will appear in yours. Your collar will become warm when I write something. Nothing uncomfortable, mind you, but you will want to keep your journal with you, perhaps in your purse." He held his right hand out to show her a ring on his small finger, it bore an engraved crest. "When you write in your journal, my ring will heat up much the same as yours. These journals can therefore serve as a form of communication other than owling if needed."

He added reassuringly with a smirk, "I won't be a hovering ogre, Doll. I respect that you are a grown woman. I also respect that you aren't looking for a twenty-four/seven Dominant. I'm not offering to be one. I will not oversee every minute of every day, but you belong to me twenty-four/seven and, occasionally, I'll make sure you know it."

His arm was casually draped behind her, along the back of the leather sofa and his fingers twirled a few strands of her hair absently. He watched her as she processed everything he said for a moment and then asked. "Is that agreeable?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "I think so. I mean, it actually sounds kind of nice – having someone watching over me."

"That's all I'm implying. I will simply want to care for you and make sure you are ok." He smirked. "With maybe a few little shenanigans thrown in occasionally."

Hermione laughed genuinely, her head thrown back and her eyes sparkling. Lucius' stomach clenched with affection as he took in her mirth.

"Another thing," he added. "I would like us to choose a set evening for us to dine casually every week. It's a time for us to just be Lucius and Hermione. It's a time where you don't have to follow my rules of submission, which we will get into shortly, after we discuss limits. You will be able to speak freely about what we did that week or what we didn't do. We can update our limits and adjust rules. In other words, that is when we take a break and make sure we are on the same page."

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and he had to resist the urge to do it for her. His eyes stayed on the strand of hair as it revolted and fell from its just tucked spot. He suppressed the urge to laugh, not missing the irony. He felt certain that the young woman before him would revolt in much the same way when she was commanded to do something she found less than desirable. Only time would tell, however, she had surprised him thus far. "So, that's the generality of it, but there are specifics we need to address as well. We need to discuss hard and soft limits."

She began chewing her lip again. He shook his head, reaching out to touch his thumb to her chin to discourage her bad habit. "Relax, this is the easy part. We'll start out in the kiddie pool and work our way up to the English Channel. I promise I won't let you drown."

She smiled, feeling encouraged and excited. "Ok, limits. Do you have a list? I've read articles and looked on the internet, so I have a good idea of what mine are."

"Excellent," Lucius said as he stood and stepped to his desk again. Grabbing a parchment and quill, he brought them back to her. "Write 'yes' beside each task or experience you've done before and 'no' if you haven't. Then choose a number and write it beside each item. Cross out anything that's a hard limit. Put a one if something is a soft limit, bordering on hard, and a five if you love it. The other numbers obviously scale in-between. I want you to do this now. Just ask me if you have questions about any of it."

He walked back to his desk, but Hermione hardly noticed as she was already diligently working on the list.

Lucius leaned back in his chair watching her. He smiled to himself as she marked the parchment and put the quill in her mouth between each mark as she contemplated the next line. _Hmmm. Oral fixation_. _That's a habit that might be fun to break her of._

He forced himself to stop watching her. He was going to have to be careful with this one. She was in all but in love with his best friend and his best friend was smitten with her. He would not stand in their way and he would not betray Snape. However, it would be quite the pisser if he got his heart broken in this odd triangle. He had a profound fondness for Hermione, more than any other woman he had collared or trained, and she hadn't even started submitting yet. He took a breath. Soon, though. Very soon.

Just after the clock struck eight, Hermione stood and stretched. She picked up the parchment and brought it to him. She handed him the list, meeting his eyes and not saying anything. He glanced at the paper and cocked an eyebrow in surprise as he read down her list. She was much more adventurous than he had anticipated. "Hmm, I must admit. Your list surprises me."

She shrugged. "Well, that's my list because it's _you_ , Lucius. If it were another Dominant, I doubt my responses would be the same."

Lucius felt his mouth go dry with her delicious and sincere words. He could think of no better compliment and was truly touched she trusted him so. He looked up at her and his words were heart felt. "Thank you, Hermione. I appreciate your trust." He looked back down at the list. "Your hard limits are reasonable and, for the most part, match my own." He looked up at her. "You understand we will be sexually monogamous?"

She nodded. "Yes, I understand."

There was silence as their eyes stayed on each other's. Slowly, Lucius stood and walked around to her. "Well, just a few more things and then we'll have some refreshments."

"Ok," she said as he once again took her hand and led her to the sofa.

After they were seated, he turned to her. "A few rules. You will address me as Master when we are inside the club. Outside the club, I am Mr. Malfoy in public and sir in private. Most importantly, you will do what I say when I say, especially when we are in the club." He looked at her for any sign of wavering or doubt. "Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," she responded.

Lucius smiled. "Such a quick learner," he said playfully. His look became more serious. "I promise to be fair and realistic in my expectations, but I will punish you if you fail to meet them. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," she once again responded, her eyes on his.

He added for clarification, "Punishments will fall within the confines of the limits you have just provided me." He smiled again. "We need to agree on safe words. One for caution and one for full stop. Do you know what you want those words to be?"

"Is it ok if we keep it simple? Yellow and Red?"

Lucius nodded. "Those would be my choices as well. Perfect." He took her hand. "Do you have any questions for me?"

"Well, I guess I'm just curious about the specifics. You know, club and playroom specifics."

His smirk was teasing. "Eager, are we?" He squeezed her hand. "We'll get there, Doll. I'll gradually instruct you. You'll learn the behaviors I expect within the club when we are in public areas and in private. You'll learn how I desire you to dress and speak. You'll learn how I expect you to behave around other Dominants and submissives. I will teach you what I desire from you, but I will do it one step at a time."

She smiled. "That sounds perfect." After a second, she blanched. "I meant, that sounds perfect, sir."

Lucius laughed. "It's ok, Doll. Tonight, is casual, you are not submitting. Which reminds me. How about Sunday evenings for our weekly Hermione and Lucius time?"

Hermione's eyes glittered happily as she spoke earnestly. "I would love that. I have to be honest, Lucius. I…I've really come to value your friendship and I don't want to lose it. I would be heartbroken if this arrangement somehow changed that."

Lucius felt his heart swell with affection and pulled her in for a hug. "I'm your friend, Hermione. Always." He pulled back from her. "And, if you ever need Lucius, and not sir, you need only tell me. Okay?"

"Perfect. Thank you, Lucius. For everything."

"It's going to be my absolute pleasure, Hermione. Oh, I forgot to mention. I would like to train you two evenings per week. I'm thinking Wednesdays and Fridays. Sunday evening will be our dinner. Is that agreeable? We can always change the nights if needed, but I feel two per week will be a good start."

She smiled, "Yes, that sounds perfect."

Her brow furrowed, as he started to stand. Noticing her expression, he remained seated. "What is it, Doll?"

"Well, what about a time frame? Also, do we need to sign anything?"

Lucius contemplated for a moment. In the past he hadn't put time limits on his contracts. They simply ended when he and his submissive agreed it was time to move on. However, since she asked, it must be important to her. In truth, he didn't see himself wanting it to end any time soon. Besides, based on her list, they would need ample time together. "I would say a minimum of four months. We can re-evaluate then. You may begin dating someone and then our arrangement would need to change." There was a pregnant pause as they met each other's eyes. They each knew who that _someone_ was.

He stood and moved back to his desk. "As far as a contract is concerned, this parchment has been charmed and lists everything we've discussed tonight. You need to simply touch your wand to it to agree to the terms. It's not legally binding or anything, it simply clarifies what we've agreed to." Hermione glanced down at the parchment and it was just as Lucius stated, everything was listed, including her limits and his.

She watched as he pressed his wand to it. A white glow lit the paper. Hermione followed suit and pressed her wand to it as well, amazed when not only the white light glowed, but a warm, tingly sensation tickled her wand hand. Lucius tapped his wand on it again and a duplicate copy appeared. He handed it to her. Hermione folded it and tucked it as well as the journal into her purse on his desk.

Suddenly, he seemed taller as he looked down at her with a new, predatory gleam in his eye. His whispered words caused a flutter in her belly. "You're mine now, Miss Granger."

Hermione swallowed heavily as she kept her eyes on his. She could feel her panties becoming damp and the pent-up arousal caused her to shuffle her feet.

Lucius grinned at her knowingly as he called out, "Tinny!" A small female elf appeared carrying a shoe sized cushioned box with gold and silver fabric. Lucius took it from her at which time the elf disappeared with a loud pop. Hermione gave him a curious look.

"This, my dear, is your new collar. The collar you will wear at all times." He opened the box, it's lid shielding Hermione from being able to see what was inside. Hermione saw him pull out what appeared to be a beautiful chain and locket with intricate etchings on it. "Come closer, Doll."

Hermione stepped close, hardly able to conceal her excitement. _My first collar!_ She looked up at him, her face full of anticipation. Her gaze moved to the necklace. Lucius tossed the box aside and Hermione got a good look at it. It was stunningly beautiful, there was a delicate scroll work of swirls and dragons encompassed an engraved letter M.

"It matches your ring," she said, reaching to touch it.

Lucius nodded. "It does, this is the Malfoy family crest." He paused for a moment before gesturing for her to face away from him. "Turn around so that I may place in on you."

Hermione moved so that her back was to his front and lifted her hair out of the way. He slipped the chain around her and latched it. She could feel the cool, metal locket lay just at the crook of her neck. She reached up to touch it, finding it weightier in her hand than it felt against her small and tender neck. Spotting a mirror on the other side of the room, she asked with obvious enthusiasm. "May I look at it in the mirror, sir?"

"Of course," Lucius replied, his voice betraying a tingle of pleasure as well.

Hermione dashed across the large room to the ornate, gold gilded mirror. She noted the locket took on the same antique hue of silver that her drop earrings bore. Lucius stepped up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders as he towered over her. He spoke softly as he looked at her reflection and there was a moment where Hermione's belly clenched with emotion as they locked eyes. A deep affection for the man behind her filled her chest. "The necklace is charmed to match whatever metal you are already wearing. If you are wearing yellow gold, it turns to the same color and grade of what it is. If you are wearing platinum, it turns to platinum."

His large warm hands moved from her shoulders and easily wrapped around her neck. She felt her heart race with desire and anticipation at the Dominant gesture. One of his hands lifted the locket. "The locket is also charmed to be light on the neck and decollate. The chain can be lengthened as desired, although I prefer it as it is now. I like it to fit almost like a choker. However, I realize you will need to have flexibility in that department. You are free to lengthen the chain to hide under your shirt during work or when you're in a situation where someone asking you what the 'M' stands for might be awkward.

"If you wish for the metal to be different from its automatic transformation, you need only whisper a simple incantation and it will change."

He turned her around to face him. "When you enter the club or when I when I wave my wand over it, like such…" He waved his wand over her neck and turned her back to the mirror. "The collar changes to a more _traditional_ appearance."

Hermione's lips parted slowly as her eyes grew wide with obvious shock. Lucius grinned roguishly. "The collared submissive of Lucius Malfoy would wear _nothing_ less, Doll."

Hermione could hardly believe her eyes. The simplicity of the lovely locket on a simple box chain no longer existed. In it's place was an elaborate, intricate, _expensive_ necklace. Around the back of her neck were eleven strands of pearls that attached to an intricate, stunning setting of clear stones. Knowing Lucius, they could only be diamonds. There were probably a hundred of them in varying sizes and shapes that encircled an enlarged version of the etching on the locket: A shield that was intersected with three spears, the points of which came out of the top, pressing gently into the delicate flesh of her neck. Flanking the shield on each side was a dragon in profile, both sporting a diamond chip for an eye. In the center, an embellished "M" flamboyantly claimed her as a Malfoy submissive. (Which, she had to admit, made her feel a bit giddy.) Underneath the crest was a drop of more diamonds, and from the center of that drop was one last huge tear drop shaped diamond that settled just below the hallow between her collar bones.

His eyes lingered over the jeweled collar and then moved up to capture her gaze. His desire for her was barely concealed. He had imagined her wearing it, but his conjured images did not give her justice. The collar looked exquisite on her and seeing his crest on her neck stirred the sleeping Dominant beneath the surface. He had not collared a submissive in over ten years, and none had ever affected him like the brunette beauty standing before him now. He felt heat rise up his chest and a flickering in his belly he had not felt for more years than he could remember. Then he realized that he didn't need to fight it – he could have her. She was his, after all.

Hermione had watched his eyes on her in the mirror. The look of desire and prideful ownership on his face could not be missed and she was putty. She wanted him. She wanted him to take her, to claim her. She knew better than to initiate anything, however. She swallowed heavily, unable to conceal the flush on her face or the desire in her eyes.

Lucius' voice was raw. "Tell me, were you a good girl? Did you refrain from orgasming since I last saw you?"

Her words were quick and desperate. "Oh yes, sir! It wasn't easy though."

Lucius chuckled. "Well, self-control is an important skill in the world of D/s. Orgasm denial is a common form of control and punishment."

After a moment, he felt his control return and decided he would not act on his impulse quite yet. Watching the anticipation and lust in her eyes was beguiling and he found he rather enjoyed watching her squirm with need. He took her hand and started to walk towards the dining room. "Come, we will discuss it over tea and dessert."

Hermione felt the warmth drain from her face. Distracted by the sudden and crushing realization of her failure, she paused. Lucius looked back at her with a questioning look. His brow furrowed as he recognized her panic.

"Miss Granger? Is something wrong?"

"I…Oh Gods, I…"

Lucius continued to watch her and then his right eyebrow slowly began to rise as his questioning look became one of comprehension. He sighed heavily and exhaled. His tone had a hint of disappointment, and he could feel her palm grow sweaty in his hand. "You didn't eat dinner, did you?"

Her words were rushed and had a pleading edge to them. "I just...I...I completely forgot! I was so preoccupied about our meeting tonight. I have thought of hardly anything else for the past two days and it took every ounce of control I had not to pull out Fabio…and I guess I just…forgot about the dinner…thing." The word 'thing' fell off and was barely a whisper as she watched his face morph into one of impatience. Her eyes dropped, and she felt the prickle of imminent tears in her nose.

He didn't say anything, contemplating how best to handle her infraction. Hermione was disgusted with herself for failing something so simple and it frustrated her that she felt like crying. It was such a simple command, and yet she had disregarded it completely. She scolded herself. _You'll never make it as a submissive, Hermione_.

Lucius could see her thoughts plain as day. They were written all over her face. He shook his head and smiled softly, lifting her chin. "Relax, Doll." He couldn't help his smirk – she was going to be perfect. He didn't like seeing her upset, but he loved that she recognized her failure and felt regret. She wasn't simply blowing it off and hoping for a spanking. He didn't like bratty subs who tried to top from the bottom. He didn't care for submissives who made light of their mistakes.

Her eyes grew wide and hope flared in her chest as she watched the smile spread across his face. Perhaps he wouldn't be disappointed in her. She couldn't bear his disappointment. After a second it hit her. _Ha!_ She playfully slapped his arm as the realization came into focus. "You're pleased, aren't you? You're pleased I screwed up so that you have an excuse to punish me!"

The smile fell from his face and Lucius shook his head solemnly as his expression grew serious. He grabbed the hand that smacked him and spoke softly, yet his tone was somber. "I will never be pleased when you make a mistake, Doll. That's not how I operate. I will never demand something that I feel you can't do. I will _never_ set you up for failure, and I won't be pleased when you do so.

"If I want to give you a playful spanking or punishment, I won't need an excuse to do it." His eyes were on hers with an intensity she had not seen before. "It's important you understand this, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked down in a submissive gaze to the floor. "Yes, sir. I understand. I'm truly sorry for forgetting to eat dinner."

Lucius tilted her chin up again. "Yes, I believe you are. You will make restitution for your mistake, but not until… _after_ you eat dinner." His eyes still on hers, he called out, "Bilby!"

The house elf who opened the front door appeared with a loud pop. "Please prepare a bowl of the beef stew from dinner tonight for our guest."

Hermione didn't want to impose. "Oh...no. I'm fine. Really, I'm…"

Lucius' sighed with a hint of exasperation and he shook his head in disbelief, a hint of a smile on his face. "Hmm, Miss Granger. Could you perhaps… _define_ the word submissive?"

Hermione closed her eyes, realizing she had completely screwed up…again. She thought back to the definition she had read from several weeks ago. Her tone was resigned, disappointment in herself once again oozed out of her pores. "To unresistingly yield to the authority of another. To be humbly obedient." His eyes stayed on her. She meekly whispered, "I understand, sir. I apologize. I didn't want to impose."

Lucius relaxed in front of her, once again lifting her chin. "You will never be an _imposition_ , Doll." He smiled warmly. "This, my dear, is why you are in training."

She smiled softly, in return. "You aren't going to ship me back to the submissive market? You know, trade me in for a model that clearly works?"

Lucius chuckled. "No, my dear. You will work out perfectly. I have acquired a model that needs a little assembling. I have all the parts and," his gaze traveled down her form and back up appreciatively, "I'm really looking forward to piecing them all together."

Lucius leaned forward and kissed her forehead tenderly before swatting her bottom, eliciting a surprised squeal and a giggle from her mouth. "Come on, let's get you fed."

Hermione sat down at the prepared place setting to find a steaming hot bowl of stew with chunks of beef and vegetables. Warm rolls with butter and a crystal goblet with sparkling water accompanied the meal.

Lucius sat at the head of the table, next to her and watched her eat. After the first mouth-watering bite, Hermione realized she really was quite hungry. She had just swallowed her second bite when Lucius asked, "So, Doll…who or _what_ is Fabio?"

Heat flushed to Hermione's face. _How did Lucius know about…? Ah yes, your verbal diarrhea from earlier._ She wiped her mouth with her napkin and took a sip of water.

He was looking at her expectantly.

"Uh, well... Fabio is my rabbit."

Lucius cocked his head. "You have a pet rabbit?" His look was confused. "Why would you pull out a pet rabbit for…"

Hermione shook her head, mortified with where his train of thought was leading him. "No, sir. A rabbit…as in a rabbit muggle vibrator."

Lucius ginned. "You have a name for your muggle vibrator?"

"Yes." She answered simply, her look daring him to make fun of her.

His smile grew larger. "Hmm, well. I should very much like to meet… _Fabio_. You will bring him to the club tomorrow night."

Hermione sighed. "Yes, sir." She could only imagine where that might lead. The more she thought about it, though, the more her mood lifted. _Fun with Lucius_ and _Fabio!_ She kept as straight a face as she could as while imagining the possibilities.

They enjoyed tea and dessert as their conversation moved away from their agreement and the world of D/s. Hermione asked Lucius about Draco and what he was like as a small child. They discussed Hogwarts, and Lucius shared some of his memories from his own days at the magical boarding school. Hermione discussed her muggle primary school and told Lucius about her first crush – Michael Stewart who was a boy in her class that used to sit in the back row and draw warships on paper and make explosion sounds with his mouth as he drew bombs crashing down. She would scold him for not paying attention and he in turn would pick on her mercilessly about her studiousness. Their teasing would continue on the play-ground. She laughed as she recounted her fear of getting cooties from boys if they in any way touched her.

Lucius watched her, enjoying her care free laugh as she recounted such an innocent time in her life. He especially enjoyed observing her fingers often straying to trace the lines of her collar lovingly. He looked at his watch and was disappointed to find it was very late. "Hermione, it's late and we both have a long day tomorrow."

Hermione looked at her watch and was surprised that so much time had passed – it was after ten. "Oh goodness! Yes, I have court in the morning."

Lucius stood and led her back into his study. Bilby appeared with her coat and Lucius helped her slip it on before gently tapping her collar to turn it back into the locket and giving her the incantation to adjust the length of the chain. She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder. Her eyes stayed on his and he smiled reassuringly. He spoke kindly, "I am very much looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night. You should expect a punishment of some sort for not eating dinner tonight as instructed. It will not be anything intense, but it will serve as a reminder that each instruction I give, no matter how insignificant it may seem, serves a purpose. We will get it over with quickly so that it will not burden our minds the rest of the evening."

Hermione couldn't help her disappointment for having already screwed up. "Yes, sir. I look forward to starting my training and thank you for your patience and understanding."

Lucius pulled her close and hugged her, kissing her head. "You are most welcome. I look forward to the privilege of introducing you properly to this magnificent world."

Hermione Apparated home and began to undress. Lucius was perfect, and she couldn't believe her good fortune at having such a wizard as her Dominant. She couldn't deny her disappointment that he had sent her home, however. A large part of her had wanted him to punish her tonight, to get it over with so that she could atone for the guilt she was carrying. Then she wanted him to touch her, to claim her. To make her his. It was as she had told herself earlier, though, it had to be up to him. He obviously didn't have the same urge and she would have to simply accept that he knew what was best.

Lucius sat in his leather chair, staring into the hearth as he sipped his fire-whiskey. That had been very hard. He held the cool glass against his forehead before swallowing down the last bit. He had wanted her. He had wanted to stake his ownership. He had wanted to punish her and then sink himself into her. He had kept his head, though, and had resisted. This was his home, it was not the club. He looked around his study. If he had taken her….in here… he would never find peace in his study again. He knew it as sure as he knew the sun would rise in the morning. This young woman was changing everything. He hadn't even kissed her goodnight for fear he would lose his resolve to resist. His eye caught the journal sitting innocently on his desk, and excitement coursed through him.

Hermione was laying in bed, her fingers rubbing the locket as she looked over the notes for her case in the morning. She froze when the locket became warm, and tossed her notes aside as she jumped out of bed, dashing for her purse. She flipped open the cover and the on the first page, elegant cursive handwriting graced it:

_Tomorrow night I will expect you at six o'clock. You will wear a skirt or a dress. Stockings are optional, pantyhose are never acceptable. I don't require you dress in anything revealing. That will come later._

_You are not to touch yourself, Doll. Your pleasure belongs to me. Tomorrow my pet…tomorrow we begin._

_Master L_

* * *

Hermione's day dragged. Her morning presentation before the Wizengemot had only taken an hour and she had spent the rest of her day at her office.

Obsessing.

Scolding herself for her failure as a submissive.

Envisioning her punishment.

Imagining his hands on her.

Anticipating what he had in store.

Wondering if a certain wizard in black would make an appearance.

Hoping he did.

Hoping he didn't.

 _Stop thinking about him, Hermione. He doesn't want you_.

And then she smiled. A wonderful man was taking her under his wing. A wonderfully Dominant and handsome man was going to train her. A man who was kind to her. A man who was her friend above all else. A man she could trust not to let emotion interfere in the playroom. A man who was safe.

When Hermione entered The Dungeon at five fifty-five, she found there was no one manning the door. It was very early as the club didn't usually get busy until after nine. When she entered the main area, a slight flush of disappointment crept over her when she found the room to be empty. Clearly her new Dominant was not as eager as she was. She hoped he would punish her promptly, she didn't like the guilt she was harboring for her screw up. She knew if he would just punish her, she'd be able to put it behind her.

A familiar face popped up from behind the bar and Hermione squealed as she ran towards the it. Jonathan smiled widely and hopped over the obstacle. "Well if it isn't the Doll of The Dungeon!" Hermione crashed into him and laughed as he swung her around. He pulled back and looked her up and down. "Where have you _been_?" he demanded of her.

"I uh…I needed…"

A light cough from behind caught her attention and stopped her from finishing her sentence. She could tell by Lucius' expression he wasn't pleased. He was about five feet away, his arms crossed and his hawk-like eyes upon her. "Oh," Hermione whispered, dropping her eyes. "Master."

Jonathan's stare dashed from her to Lucius and back again. Then he saw her collar and his jaw fell. "Oh, uh... Sorry, Master Lucius," Jonathan said with his eyes cast down.

Lucius' gaze was only on Hermione and she promptly stepped over to him as he scanned up and down her form-fitting, silky wrap-around dress. He spoke to Jonathan but still had not looked at him. "Is the bar set? Who is bar backing with you tonight?"

Jonathan's submissive response was swift. "Kelsey, sir. She is due at seven."

Lucius glanced at Jonathan and then his eyes were back on his newest acquisition as he spoke. "Master Severus is managing the floor tonight, let him know if she is late or if Master Scolton returns. He has been banned and lost his membership as a result of his behavior last weekend."

"Yes, sir," Jonathan responded.

Hermione kept her eyes on Lucius, instinctively knowing that's where they belonged until he told her otherwise. He gave her a small smile. "You look lovely, Doll." He took her hand. "Come."

Hermione felt a rush of excitement when his thumb rubbed the back of her hand as he held it. His grip was warm and comforting. When they approached the entranceway that lead to the private rooms below, she suppressed the memory of her last time following a Dominant down these same stairs. Thinking of Snape was counterproductive and would only serve as a distraction. Still, she wondered where he was and if he knew she had signed a contract with Lucius.

Lucius led her into room number two and closed the door behind them. Hermione glanced around the space finding that it looked rather benign. There was sofa with a coffee table, a whipping bench, and a large bed in the corner of the room. Her attention then moved to the far wall where a rack hung near the bench. Riding crops, canes, floggers and paddles – as well as a few items she had never seen before – all hung tauntingly.

"Eyes on me, Miss Granger."

Hermione quickly turned to face her Master.

His face was kind, but his words were firm. "You are not to touch another person within the club without my permission. I know Jonathan is your friend, but the freedoms you enjoyed prior to signing a contract with me are a thing of the past as long as you are my submissive."

Hermione looked down with her hands behind her back. "Yes, Master. I understand."

After a moment he asked her, "So, tell me. How was your day?" He sat down on the sofa and gestured towards the floor beside his feet. Hermione gingerly slid to her knees and rested on her heels.

He tilted her chin up when she didn't answer. "You are always to answer my questions. I find it tedious to give you permission to speak. If I ask you a question, you will answer. If another asks you a question, you will look to me for permission to answer." His eyes moved from hers to her mouth and back to her eyes again. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master."

He smiled warmly. "Tell me, how was your day?"

She sighed, "It was long, Master. I couldn't stop thinking about how I let you down. To have already earned a punishment is very disappointing."

"Did you think about your impending punishment?"

"Yes, Master, but I spent far more time thinking about what I did to earn that punishment. I truly am sorry."

"Look at me, Doll." Hermione's chocolate eyes met his grey and she found affection in them. "You have served your penance. You have expressed sincere remorse and I am quite certain the scolding you have given yourself is more than enough punishment."

Hermione felt warmth creep though her. She knew in that instant Lucius was going to be a fair and just Dominant. While she would have preferred a spanking last night, she could not deny that his leaving her to think about it for a full day was much more effective than any spanking would have been. She would most likely have enjoyed it…although she couldn't be sure. She had yet to be on the receiving end of a true punishment from Lucius Malfoy.

She felt her body heat from the mere thought of his hands on her. It was Friday and she had not orgasmed since Monday and felt like a burning cord about to hit the bomb. She knew that she would combust the minute he touched her…and she hoped it would be soon.

Lucius' soft voice pulled her focus back to where she knew it needed to be. "You're blushing, Doll. Tell me what has brought on such a delicious response."

Hermione sucked her bottom lip into her mouth as she pondered her answer. Immediately his hand was on her chin where his thumb gently plucked it from her teeth's grip. His eyebrow rose, and his expression was turning foreboding.

Hermione wasted no more time contemplating her answer. "I was imagining what a punishment spanking would be like coming from you, Master." Wanting to be completely forthcoming she continued. "And I was acknowledging to myself that I had not orgasmed since Monday and am feeling…"

Lucius' look was serious. "Once you have experienced a true punishment spanking from me, you will understand that orgasms will not be part of the encounter. A punishment is not a punishment if it ends in pleasure."

"No sir, I didn't imagine it would be."

"No, Master," he corrected her. However, his eyes were soft, and his thumb was gently rubbing her bottom lip. "So – some rules you need to follow while in the club." Hermione perked up, eager for her instruction to begin. "While in any public areas of the club, you will follow two steps behind me and slightly to my right. This way I always know where you are and a simple reach behind with my dominant hand has you in my grasp." He watched her eyes, which clearly gave away her excitement and anticipation. He had to resist the urge to chuckle. "If I stop, you stop. I will gesture where I want you to stand should I desire you to move from behind me. This means your eyes are to be on me at all times. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Master," she responded eagerly. Lucius couldn't help his eyes from moving to the collar. The gems sparkled beautifully and brought out the brightness of her eyes.

"You will not speak to anyone in the club unless I give you permission. If someone asks you a question, you will look to me. I will either nod or speak my consent or disapproval. You do nothing without my consent."

Her expression wavered to one of slight concern. Not wanting there to be any confusion he commanded, "Now is the time to ask if you have a question, Doll."

"Master, how will I let you know if I have a need or a question?"

Lucius studied her for a moment. "You will not address me unless it is of the utmost importance. If you find you must have an answer, you will politely and demurely say 'Master.' I will stop speaking, or doing whatever it is that I was doing, and will immediately address your concern. I will always be aware of you and will strive to be very attuned to what is going on around you. I think you will find you have very little need to address me."

He could tell his answer reassured her, so he continued. "No eye contact with any other Dominant, unless I grant it." He watched her for a moment. "I should clarify that this includes Severus Snape. You are not to look him in the eye or speak to him without my permission. It's important that you understand this."

Hermione swallowed, feeling a slight need to reassure Lucius that she understood she was his and his alone. "I understand, Master. You are my Dominant. You are my focus and the one person I will aim to obey and please."

Lucius felt himself relax from a tension he didn't realize he was harboring. The desire Hermione and Snape had for each other could prove to be a huge elephant in the room and he was not convinced it would be easy to navigate. He would need to be strict with his authority and control over the situation.

"I am pleased, Hermione. I am pleased by your response and by your clear understanding of the…circumstances." He noticed her flush from his appraisal and it made him smile. This witch was utterly perfect.

He leaned back on the sofa and patted his knee, signaling her to climb onto his lap. Hermione smiled and eagerly complied. He pulled her knees up and cradled her close so that she was nestled into him. Her head was tucked under his chin as he continued.

"As far as dress is concerned, I have no requirement other than you should always wear a dress or a skirt. Again, no pantyhose. The blasted fool who designed that contraption should have to meet a Dementor's Kiss."

Hermione giggled.

"I have purchased a collection of undergarments that I will require you to wear under whatever dress or skirt you wear to the club." When he felt her tense, he made it clear this was not up for debate. "I insist, Doll. For one thing, I can be…overzealous in removing such obstacles and am quite certain you will tire of me destroying your intimates. Also, I have particular...tastes. I might require you to accompany me about the club and I might require you to do so dressed in no more than the provided lingerie. I will notify you ahead of time, either in person or via your journal, if I require any particular dress or attire for any particular sessions."

He stroked her hair and was pleased she seemed to have lost the tension from only a moment before. "Are you ok, Doll? Am I moving too fast...going over too much at one time?"

Hermione pulled back and met his eyes. A twinkle of mischief was displayed as she responded, "Master…really, it's not terribly complicated… Walk, follow, eyes, talk, and dress. Perhaps you didn't realize, but you happened to have signed the brightest witch of her age as your submissive." She batted her eye lashes playfully.

Lucius gave her a lopsided grin. "Well, I'll expect perfect compliance when we venture out amongst the throng momentarily, then. I want you to practice what we've discussed and there are some demonstrations tonight I feel warrant your attention." He patted her hip. "Up you get."

Hermione couldn't hide her spike of disappointment when he dismissed her from his warm hands and strong arms. Lucius noticed she was much slower exiting his lap than entering. "Doll, is something bothering you?"

"No, Master, I just…" Her gaze wandered from his face to the floor and he physically pulled her gaze back to his.

"Eyes on me and answer concisely, please."

Her eyes flew to his. "It's just…I wanted...I was hoping."

"Yes?"

She sighed. "Master, would you please kiss me?"

Lucius studied her for a moment. "Another rule, Miss Granger. Each session you will be granted three wishes. It might not be your top three, but three requests will be granted throughout the course of each training evening." His eyes moved to her mouth. "And this my dear, is a request I am most happy to oblige."

Hermione let out a squeal when Lucius suddenly wrapped his arms around her and lifted her as though she weighed no more than a pygmy puff. He carried her four large steps and she let out an "Oomph!" as he pressed her urgently against the wall.

She felt instant heat and overwhelming desire when his eyes bore into hers with a predatory, animalistic stare. His mouth crashed onto hers violently and Hermione threw her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. His tongue was tentative and then demanding as it forced its way into her mouth. She moaned as she felt his hardness press into her and his hands roam over every groove and curve of her breasts, waist, and bottom. She could feel the coiling need in her belly begin to tighten and felt certain that if he didn't take her in that instant she would lose all sanity.

Then it was apparent the blasted man was attempting to do just that – make her crazy. She was going to end up in the looney bin, she was quite certain. Lucius simply stepped back and used his arms to guide her to the floor. She was panting, her hair was glued to her face in all sorts of angles from the sticky sweat of arousal that marred her complexion.

He, on the other hand, looked completely composed. Hermione's eyes moved up and down his form to find he looked as though he had merely been an observer and not a participant in their moment of passion.

She shook her head. "Master one, Doll zero."

Lucius broke out into jubilant laughter and leaned in to plant a kiss on her forehead. "Oh, Doll. You are simply a treasure." He glanced her up and down. "Compose yourself, it's time I introduce you to the club as mine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To see photos that inspired the Malfoy Collar in this chapter, find us on FB or Tumblr:
> 
> Facebook: www.facebook.com/snowand.lissa.7
> 
> Tumblr: LissaDream AND SnowBlind12


	15. Chapter Fifteen

* * *

  **Chapter Fifteen**  

* * *

Hermione’s insane frustration seemed destined to only continue. Lucius moved through the growing crowd with Hermione following exactly as he had told her, two steps behind to his right. She fought a bit of panic when she was cut off and he got further ahead of her than two steps, and rushed to catch up. Remembering painfully the look of frustrated disappointment on Snape’s face when she hadn’t been able to keep up with him in the crowd the last time she was here, she was thankful that he didn’t comment or scold. Instead he favored her with a small grin when he checked to make sure she was still with him. When he was directly in front of the stage, Lucius motioned her forward with a crook of his finger, then pointed to direct her to stand right in front of him. She did so instantly, keeping her eyes slightly averted.

Once she was standing with her back to his chest he slipped one arm around her shoulders from behind, letting his forearm rest across her collar bones and his other hand moved to splay flat across her belly. The tips of his long fingers brushed the top of her pubis over the silkiness of her dress.

Hermione’s breath hitched, and she crossed her arms over under her bust as he pulled her back against the length of his body while whispering in a low, husky voice in her ear, “I want you to watch the stage, never take your eyes off the witch.” She shuddered as his warm breath tickled the delicate cartilage, but moved her eyes to the stage immediately.

On it a submissive was strapped to what looked like a horizontal St. Andrew’s cross and Hermione’s eyebrows rose inquisitively. The scene was hot, even though she didn’t recognize either the sub or the Dom. The lighting over the stage was dim, allowing the dozens of red candles to cast flickering shadows against the submissive’s pale skin. The dark-skinned Dominant was shirtless with defined planes and grooves of a fit body. His eyes drank in every inch of the witch before him, who was completely naked. The witch on the cross was strapped at each ankle and wrist and across her middle. She was arching her back and wiggling as the Dom methodically poured hot wax across her legs and low belly. The moans that were emanating from the witch made Hermione rub her legs together in nervous agitation. She couldn’t help but feel a touch of envy at the pure look of ecstasy on the witch’s face. Once again, her mind went to her lack of sexual release – she hadn’t come since Charlie. The tension in her body was mounting incredibly.

Hermione groaned audibly as the Dom poured a strip of wax across the sub’s chest, obviously focusing on her nipples. This caused her to give a little shriek and a tug to each restraint as she bowed her upper body and threw her head back in apparent pleasure. “Hmm, Miss Granger,” the deep voice of her Master (her Master!) whispered in her ear. “I see this is exciting you.” Her breath all but stopped when she felt the hand resting on her low belly slip further south. “Let’s see if we can’t up the ante.” His nose nuzzled her hair and she could feel him breathing deep as if taking in her scent. When his fingers found her clit over the top of her dress and knickers, the sensation made her knees wobble and she leaned back into him heavily. The feel of his erection pressing into her back made her light headed as he started to tease the little nub.

Her breath came in staccatoed gasps as she watched the witch on stage continue to writhe. After a few more minutes of dribbled hot wax and Lucius’ skillful fingers, Hermione was in a right state of sexual panic.

“May I come, please, Master?” she whispered frantically as she watched in utter fascination as the wizard on stage used his wand to stand the St. Andrew’s cross upright, leaving the witch bound. He moved in front of her, holding what looked like a red rubber ball and touched her lips with it. The witch opened her mouth wide and he inserted it before flicking his wand so the straps that held the gag wove around her head.

“You may not,” Lucius responded. Hermione could feel his grin in her hair. She whimpered and felt tears prick her eyes as he continued to gently stroke her over her clothing.

“Yes, Master,” she breathed shakily, clenching her internal muscles, and trying to hold back the onslaught of pleasure that was trying to burst forth.

The first strike of the flogger across the witch’s bare breasts made both the witch and Hermione drag in deep breaths. Hermione’s gasp turned into a frantic, wordless plea of sound as Lucius’ fingers sped. Her body started to tremble violently and the arm around her collar bones tightened. It felt as if he were attempting to hold her together when she was on the verge of shattering into a million pieces.

“Please, Master.” It was a pitiful sound, and Lucius couldn’t help the evil grin that split his face as he kissed the top of her head. “No, Doll,” he growled lowly in her ear. “Don’t ask again.” He felt, rather than saw, her nod as the trembling in her body grew more pronounced. Wickedly, he stopped stroking her, sliding his hand back up to rest on her belly. He tightened his grasp on Hermione’s waist when she sagged heavily into him. Her legs were weak with the effort of holding off her orgasm as her body struggled to figure out what to do with the overabundance of tension. Even though she kept her eyes on the stage, she mentally retreated, trying to distance herself from her frustration. _The fates of Henry the VIII’s wives were divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived. Pluto is no longer a planet because it has not cleared its orbit of debris._

While Hermione was trying to distract herself, Lucius continued to take in the show on stage. His hard-on was ragging mad, mostly because he had wanted to take Hermione since lunch on Tuesday. At least he’d had the release of a few wank sessions to help him through, however. He was thoroughly impressed with Hermione’s acceptance of her orgasm denial. Cocking his head, Lucius focused on the duo in front of him. He found it very satisfying to watch hardened wax flake off the sub’s body with every lick of the flogger. It was very apparent that Hermione was also enjoying the show. While her trembling had slowed, her breath still came in unsteady pants. Lucius slipped his fingers down again, now that she’d had a little time to recover. He delighted in the fact that he could feel a damp spot on her dress, and almost groaned with her when a snarl left her throat as he began her torture again. His other hand slipped back a bit, so he could wrap his large hand lightly around the delicate length of her throat. It took no time at all for her to return to her wanton, trembling state of arousal.

“Oh, Gods,” she whispered frantically, and he knew she was on the verge of not being able to hold back any longer. He slipped his hand away from her clit again and moved it to her hip in order to pull her tight against him. She arched, looking for somewhere for the tension in her clit to go. His other arm moved back to its position over her collar bones.

Lucius was startled for a moment when a tear drop hit his wrist and he quickly grasped her chin. “What’s wrong?” he whispered as he tilted her head back so he could see her face.

“I’m all right,” she murmured. Her voice sounded thick, but he could see the truth in her eyes. “I’m just feeling a bit overwhelmed, is all.” He gave her a gentle smile and pressed a light kiss to her forehead. She was doing very well. Instinct told him she could take what he was giving her, otherwise he wouldn’t be pushing her so hard. He meant what he had told her; he would never set her up to fail. Lucius wanted her to realize her ability. It was the first step in building her confidence. He decided he wouldn’t tease her anymore for now, letting her have a break seemed prudent in light of her tears.

“A drink, I think,” he murmured. Not being able to help himself, he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, laughing softly when her face followed his as he pulled back. Lucius stepped away from her and made his way through the crowd to the stairs. When he reached them, he turned his head slightly to the right to find her exactly where she was supposed to be. He was unable to suppress a smile as he started up the stairs. She really was doing beautifully.

When they reached the door, he paused and handed her her mask, which she slipped on without looking at him. Lucius pushed through the exit and held the door for her, pleased when Hermione’s eyes stayed on the floor while she waited for him to continue to his destination. He led her to a booth and gestured for her to sit.

“Do you like strawberries, Doll?” he asked softly.

“Yes, Master,” she responded.

“I will be back momentarily,” he told her. “You will speak with no one, but you are free to look around.” She nodded and watched him with hungry eyes as he moved to the bar. When he was swallowed up by the sea of patrons, Hermione averted her eyes to the table top. Her body was tingling with denied release, which was taking all of her attention.

“Beaves!” a familiar voice called after she had lost herself for a few minutes. Hermione’s head snapped up and her eyes flitted in the direction of Draco’s exclamation. She smiled as he came barreling towards her and slipped into the booth opposite her. “Hey! So glad to see you back here! How’re you doing?”

She smiled again, but did not respond. This caused a confused look to mar his handsome features. “What’s wro – oh!” Hermione knew the moment his eyes landed on her collar. (Honestly – the thing was so beautifully ostentatious, she wasn’t sure how anyone could miss it.) He paused for a second before doing a double take and squinting his eyes to look at it more closely before they widened in true surprise.

Hermione’s lips parted with her own shock when his eyes flew to hers, full of questions. _Lucius really didn’t tell him?_ she thought wildly.

“Is that the Malfoy crest?” he whispered, his voice a bit choked.

Hermione averted her eyes, heat blooming across her features. She was sure it was quite a blow to Draco that his father had collared her. Why Lucius hadn’t said anything to him was beyond her.

“You’re not allowed to talk to anyone, are you?” he asked, a smirk settling on his features as he sat back cockily. One of his arms stretched along the back of the booth while the other lay on the table. He laughed when she didn’t answer. “This is almost too good – the Gryffindor goody-two-shoes not allowed to talk.” The hand on the table came up to rub his chin thoughtfully. “Tell me – what do you get when you add wormwood to pickled mandrake roots?” The frustrated, angry look that crossed her features made him guffaw and he threw his head back while tears formed in his eyes. “I’ve got another one! What’s the incantation to levitate something that weighs more than a ton?” His eyes sparkled merrily as she started chewing her bottom lip and her eyes narrowed dangerously. This only made him laugh harder. She crossed her arms under her chest and slumped back in the booth, pointedly looking away from him as a pout pulled the corners of her lips down.

“Draco…” It was said in a warning tone that made Hermione’s eyes fall back to the table top instantly. A water goblet full of a light pink, bubbly something was sat in front of her. “Drink, Doll,” Lucius directed as he slid into the booth next to her.

“Father…you’ve collared a submissive.” Draco raised an accusing eyebrow.

“I have.” Lucius sipped his drink as he watched Hermione raise hers to her lips. He found himself smiling when her eyes widened appreciatively. She held the glass in front of her appraisingly before taking another, deeper swallow.

“You like it, love?” he asked her softly.

“Yes, Master,” she responded, smiling at him sweetly. “What is it?”

“Sparkling strawberry water.” He smirked at her pleasure.

“Neither of you are going to tell me how the hell this came about?” Draco asked after a moment of silence.

Lucius sighed heavily as he set down his drink. “I need to do a check on security and the bar,” he told Hermione as he turned her face to his. “You are free to talk with Draco while I am gone. If Etan, Rose, or Johnathan were to find you before I come back, I give you permission to speak with them, as well. No one else. You will not leave this booth under any circumstances beside the need to use the restroom. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” Hermione answered obediently. She loved how his eyes darkened with desire when she called him that. Neither noticed Draco looking at them with a contemplative expression.

“Kiss me goodbye,” Lucius directly. Hermione leaned up without a second thought to press her lips to his sweetly.

“Master?” she murmured as he pulled back and brushed his lips to the crest of her nose before he started sliding from the booth. “Yes, pet?” His look grew a bit stern when she addressed him so quickly after being told how rare it should be.

She looked abashed as she asked, “How long will you be?”

“No longer than thirty minutes, pet,” he responded, his face smoothing out. It had been a reasonable question. “Be a good girl.” He winked at her before disappearing into the crowd.

Cautiously, she moved her eyes back to Draco, feeling very nervous. Was he mad? Draco studied her for a moment before a grin split his face. “Are you really working on becoming my new step-mummy, Beaves?” He laughed at her mixed expression of surprise and horror before starting to chuckle herself.

“No, Draco,” she said simply when they calmed down. “Your father doesn’t feel that way about me.”

He nodded, but his eyes looked faraway for a moment. He turned his face from her, rubbing his chin again as he thought. “Listen, Gra –” “Doll!” she said quickly. “On this floor, I’m Doll.”

“Right!” he corrected instantly. “Doll. Listen. Please be careful with my father. I think there’s the potential for this to be more than you realize, and I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, confused. “Lucius is my friend,” she answered. “Much like you and I. We both know that you and I would never last even if we wanted to try.”

“Oh, I don’t think –”

“Doll!” The lovely, dulcet tones of Etan interrupted what Draco was about to say.

“Good evening, sir,” Hermione greeted politely as Etan, with Rose trailing a few steps behind, walked up to their booth.

“May we join you?” he asked politely, looking to Draco and then to Hermione.

“Of course,” Hermione responded with a broad smile, gesturing to the table. Etan slid in beside Draco and signaled for Rose to kneel on the floor next to him.

“It’s so good to see you back with us, Doll,” Etan grinned as he tangled a hand possessively in Rose’s hair before guiding her head to rest against his thigh. “How are you?”

“I am well, sir,” Hermione responded, eyes glowing.

“That’s wonder…is that a collar?” he asked after a break in his train of thought. Etan’s eyes flew to meet Draco’s. “I do apologize, Draco. I had no idea you were interested in collaring a submissive.”

“Oh, no,” Draco held up both hands and laughed. “She’s not mine. She was just saying how terrible we’d be together on a permanent basis!”

“That’s the Malfoy crest isn’t it…? Ah.” He had obviously figured it out even as he spoke. “Master Lucius?”

“Yes,” Hermione and Draco answered together.

“I take it things with the other Dom did not progress as hoped, then?” Etan’s eyes were sad for her and Hermione felt her cheeks flush. She was pretty sure Draco had no idea about Snape and glanced at him from under her eyelashes. She was correct, curiosity lit his features.

“What other Dom?” Draco looked thoroughly confused. Hermione and Etan both ignored him.

“They didn’t,” she answered quietly. “I was sad as well.”

“What other Dom?” Draco demanded a second time.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Etan questioned kindly, cutting across Draco’s insatiable curiosity. “Beaves, c’mon!” Draco leaned forward eagerly. “You know you can trust me, I won’t go blabbing. What other Dom were you hoping would collar you?”

Hermione’s eyebrows shot up. “Why do you think I was hoping for another Dom to collar me?” she asked a bit snootily.

“Because you’re just not really the type to keep flitting around.” Draco shrugged. “You were always the serious, studious type. I know you want a Dom for keeps. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

Hermione gave a deep sigh of annoyance. He was right, _and_ she _also_ knew Draco. He wasn’t going to let this go until he had an answer.

“Snape.” It was said simply with a popping sound on the ‘p’.

“I could leave Rose with you for a bit if you’d like some girl chat?” Etan broke in, giving Draco a silent glare that told the younger man to back off.

“No way! I want to hear about this!” Draco interjected, purposely ignoring Etan’s warning look and not letting Hermione answer. His eyebrows rose. “You and Snape?”

Hermione’s cheeks grew even hotter as Draco looked at her with obvious surprise. She didn’t miss the impressed gleam in his eye, either.

“He’s a wicked good Dom, Doll,” Draco said softly after a few moments. “Tough, strict, a little heavy on discipline, but wicked good.”

“It was an … eye opening experience,” Hermione said softly. Personally, she didn’t know about Snape being a good Dom. Her limited experience showed her that Lucius was by far the better Dominant of the two. Even her experience with Draco hadn’t been remotely as disastrous as her experiences with Snape. However – it wasn’t like _anything_ she and Snape did was normal. It seemed that emotions and insecurities heavily influenced their interactions, which is why she tried hard not to judge him too harshly. Hermione knew that she certainly hadn’t been her normal self around him. “It didn’t work out. How do _you_ know that he’s a good Dom?”

Draco shrugged. “I’ve scened with him. I don’t really get into dudes, I much prefer the witches. When I switch, though, I like threesomes and moresomes on occasion. I’ve done a few of those scenes with him. I’ve also seen him do presentations and demonstrations. He and Britt have been an unofficial pair for a long time. Before the war they were actually together-together. He broke it off with her because he was worried for her safety and didn’t want her to be connected with him.”

Draco obviously wasn’t paying attention to Hermione’s reactions, or he would have noticed all color leaving her face. He just continued on like a fourth-year female Hufflepuff-gossipmonger. She took a large swallow of her sparkling water, wishing it was alcohol. Etan gave her a sympathetic look. “I’ve been coming here since right after the war when Snape and my dad bought the old owner out. I’ve seen Snape do a ton of shit. Why didn’t it work out with you? Because you’re new?” “I’m not really willing to talk about it in detail. It’s just too personal.” She wasn’t looking at him as she answered because she was too overwhelmed by all the information he had just given her. Raising a hand to rub her forehead, she continued, “Let’s just suffice it to say he couldn’t give me what I needed, and apparently, I couldn’t give him what he wanted.” She paused. “Maybe it’s better to say he didn’t want _me_.” She tried to keep the hurt out of her voice but knew she was failing when Draco started to look a bit uncomfortable. “Your Father has been very good to me, I know I’ve made the right choice for a training Dom.”

Draco’s face looked astonished once again. “My dad took you on as a training sub?”

She was confused by his surprise. “Yes…” she affirmed hesitantly.

“Oh.” Draco and Etan exchanged somewhat baffled looks.

“What?”

“It’s just that…well, Gra- _Doll_ – my dad must be awfully into you to take you on as a training sub,” Draco explained slowly. “He doesn’t usually have the patience…I don’t think he’s done that more than once…maybe twice.”

“Oh, no,” Hermione smiled. “You have it all wrong. Master Lucius and I are just good friends.”

Draco’s face suddenly became worried. “Hermione.” She would have protested the use of her first name, but he whispered it so low she barely heard it. “You’re wrong about that; my dad is crazy about you.”

Hermione waved her hand somewhat dismissively even as she felt a clench of unsureness tighten in the pit of her stomach. Lucius was crazy about her? _No…that can’t be true. He would have never agreed to do this with me knowing how I feel about Snape if that were true…would he?_

“Okay,” Draco gave up when Hermione’s face became dangerously contemplative and her teeth made an appearance to nibble at her bottom lip. “Just…be careful, all right?”

“Of course, Draco,” she said sincerely. “I’m quite fond of your father and I intend to keep his friendship long after our contract expires.” Her ex-nemesis seemed appeased with that proclamation and relaxed back into the booth again.

They chatted a bit more about work and home and other friends. After about twenty minutes or so, Hermione excused herself to go to the restroom. Five minutes later, she was walking out of the loo while looking down as she straightened her dress.

She let out a muffled squeak of surprise, along with an “I’m so sorry, sir,” when she walked smack dab into a black covered chest. Instantly she knew who it was, without even looking up into his face. Snape.

This was not good. She wasn’t allowed to speak with him without Lucius’ permission, but she was alone. How was she supposed to convey that directive?

Keeping her eyes trained on the ground, she tried to move past him. Snape didn’t touch her, but he also wouldn’t give her room to pass. “Miss,” he said softly, and there was a tinge of emotion in his voice. She still didn’t look up and her heart started pounding painfully in her chest. “Ah, I see you are following orders. That’s fine. You can stay quiet while I talk to you.”

He paused, and Hermione nervously wiped sweaty palms on her skirt. She just wanted to leave, Lucius would be back any moment and she really didn’t want to get in trouble.

“I need to, uh… I need to apologize to you.” Snape’s deep baritone was laced with a slight tremor. It took everything in Hermione not to allow her eyes to fly to his and see if he was being sincere. She remained silent and still, however, with her eyes on the ground. “What happened the last time we were together was not…” She heard him swallow. “Well. I was out of…” He sighed, and Hermione found herself becoming resentful. He couldn’t even apologize to her? Honestly? Then he said something that made her heart leap into her throat.

“Hermione,” he whispered fiercely. She tried not to wince at the sound of her first name, she glanced around under the cover of her eyelashes, relieved they were alone. “What I did was uncalled for, and I’m sorry. I believe we were misunderstanding each other, and I let my insecurities get out of hand. I am now quite aware of how wrong I was. I would like us to start fresh.”

“What is going on here?” Lucius’ voice was laced with anger and made Hermione flinch. “ _Pet_ ,” he said, the edge to his voice was bordering on menacing and Hermione felt tears spring to her eyes. She didn’t want to disappoint him. “You are to look at me and answer when I ask you a question.”

Her eyes snapped up quickly. “Yes, Master,” she rushed. “I apologize. I was coming back from the bathroom when I ran into Master Snape. He was, uh … a-apologizing … to me for our last … encounter.”

“What did I tell you about speaking with someone without my permission?” Lucius growled. Snape watched in fascination as Hermione’s cheeks reddened and her eyes averted as she wound her arms tight around her middle.

“I swear I did not speak to Master Snape, Master.” Her voice was trembling. “I didn’t even look at him. I was just listening.”

The silence between the three was deafening, all though Lucius expression softened with her explanation. “That was the way of it, Snape?” Lucius turned accusing eyes on his friend.

“She is being truthful,” Snape answered softly, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his chin challengingly. Lucius didn’t miss the way he couldn’t keep his eyes off Hermione’s collar. “You and I have discussed this in the past. I did not think it would be a problem.”

“I am very pleased, Doll.” Lucius’ tone immediately smoothed as he accepted his submissive’s elucidation. “Please move to position,” he instructed her. Hermione hurriedly took the few steps needed to place herself behind Lucius, her eyes staying on the floor.

Lucius’ focus turned back to his friend. “You’re right, we have discussed this, Snape. In the future, please seek me out and ask permission to speak with my submissive. It will be granted, but I wish to bear witness your…encounters…until Doll has had time to adapt to her new rules.

“If you would like to answer Master Snape, now is your chance.” Lucius moved his attention back to Hermione. “You may look at him.”

Hermione took a deep, calming breath before raising her eyes to meet guarded obsidian irises. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment when the air buzzed with the electrical current they seemed to harbor. It was a thrumming that none of the trio could miss and Hermione did not see the way Lucius’ eyes filled with frustrated regret as he looked away from the pair.

Politely, she spoke with the man that haunted her dreams all too often. “I appreciate and accept your apology, Master Snape. I apologize for my part of the miscommunication, as well. I would very much like to start over – when my training has been completed.”

The relief that flooded Snape’s eyes made Hermione’s heart leap, as did the way that Lucius and Snape exchanged a long, loud look. She quickly talked herself down however. She had made a commitment with Lucius and respected and trusted him. No matter what this chemical reaction was with Severus Snape, she would fulfill her commitment on pure principal. She would not leap blind again, Hermione knew Lucius was better for her then Snape when it came to training. All three of them knew it. Besides, it’s not like she wasn’t attracted to Lucius. Snape may be the volatile volcano, but Lucius was the pyroclastic flow – ultimately, they both packed a lot of heat. Returning her focus to pleasing her Master, Hermione’s eyes moved back to the floor and she resealed her lips.

“Are we through here?” Lucius questioned.

“Yes, Master,” Hermione murmured, moving her eyes to take in Lucius’ expression. It was kind again. He was no longer upset, in fact, he looked very pleased indeed.

“Very good, pet,” he nodded with a small smile. “Let us return so you may say goodbye to your friends.” With a nod to a stoic and silent Snape, Lucius turned and walked back to their little booth, Hermione following quickly behind. Neither spared a glance back.

“Say good-bye, Doll,” Lucius teased with a small smirk when they reached the table with Draco and Etan talking animatedly while Rose leaned against her Master’s thigh, eyes closed in bliss as he swirled gentle circles through her hair. “You’ll not be seeing anyone anymore tonight.”

Draco gave her an evil grin and Etan chuckled. Hermione, feeling a flush of heat creep into her face, murmured her good-byes. Lucius led her a few steps away before coming to a halt and turning to her.

“You brought _Fabio_?” That damn smirk seemed to be a permanent fixture on his face suddenly and it made her heart race with anticipation. “I did, Master,” she returned his smirk with a coy smile. Her eagerness was growing. Was he _finally_ going to let her come? “He’s in my purse.”

“Your bag is at check?”

“Yes, Master.” Without another word, Lucius strode towards coat check. They gathered her bag and he handed it to her to sling over her shoulder as she followed him back into the basement. They walked past a few more demonstrations that were happening, and when Lucius stopped to take in a female Dom spanking a female sub, she literally groaned with disappointment. He threw a teasing grin over his shoulder before continuing through the crowd. It took concentrated effort for Hermione not to mutter curses under her breath. He was driving her _mad_ , and he bloody well _knew_ it, too!

When the door to playroom two shut behind them, it cancelled all noise of the busy floor they had just left. Lucius’ demeanor changed abruptly. Gone was the teasing, playful Dom she had been with for the majority of the night. In the breath of a second she was being bodily shoved up against the back of the door as a pair of firm, hard lips crashed down on hers. He used Hermione’s gasp of surprise to gain brutal access to her mouth, sucking her tongue before scraping it gently with his teeth. His hands gripped her hips roughly before sliding up her sides and caressing the outskirts of her breasts. As quickly as it began, it ended. He stepped away from her and took her elbow in his hand, steering her into the center of the room. She was again greeted with a sofa and coffee table, a whipping bench, and a large bed. As much as she wanted to let her eyes wander, she quickly moved them to the floor as she awaited instructions. She was gasping for breath, beyond turned on. That kiss only helped fan the flames of the inferno he created at the beginning of the week.

“First, Miss Granger,” Lucius tipped her chin up and Hermione was somewhat pleased to see he seemed a little flustered himself. “I wish to tell you how well you have done tonight. I am very pleased.” She felt the heat of a blush in her cheeks and bit her lip as she attempted to suppress the pleasure of those words from being blatantly obvious. His sexy, knowing smirk slid across his face slowly as he used his thumb to pluck her lip from her teeth before his mouth descended on hers again. This kiss was not as heated, not as brutal. It was just a gentle, chaste brush, but it thrilled her all the same.

“Now.” He pulled back, and she was delighted once again that he needed to clear his throat before continuing. “There will be times when I send you to a playroom to wait for me.” He began to circle her, and Hermione returned her eyes to the floor, leaving her hands loose at her sides. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her when he let one hand trail a caress over her backside before giving it a squeeze and then a light slap before continuing to scrutinize her.

“When I do this, you will enter the room and remove all your clothing except your knickers, unless otherwise instructed. If any of your jewelry – with the exception your collar, of course – could be potentially hazardous, you will remove that as well. You’ll fold the clothing and will place these items on the small table that is under every medicine cabinet in every room. Then you’ll take the common kneeling position. You will kneel two paces into the room and two paces to the left of the door. If there is something in your way in that position, you will get as close to it as you can. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand, Master.”

“Demonstrate.”

Quietly, Hermione moved across the room to set her bag on the small table under the cupboard where she knew the sober up potions were kept. She removed her shoes and slid them under the table and then started unwrapping her dress. She folded it, quickly followed by her bra, and dangle earrings. She walked to the door and stepped two paces in and two paces to the left before kneeling with her knees together, bum on her feet, and palms flat on her thighs. She stared straight ahead.

“Very nice.” Lucius complimented. “Whenever I tell you to kneel, this is where you go in any room. This is how you are to present yourself for me. When we are in company, and I indicate you to kneel on the floor, this is how I want you to look. If we will be seated for a long time, I will cast a cushioning charm. If I touch your head with my fingertips, you are allowed to rest against my thigh.

“When I enter the room, you are not allowed to speak or look at me until I tell you to do so. Tell me that you understand all I just told you.”

“I understand, Master.”

“Good.” There was a beat of silence. “Look at me.” Hermione raised her eyes to his handsome face. “Undress me, Miss Granger.” He almost laughed aloud at the fire that sparked in her eyes with that last directive. He knew he was severely pushing her boundaries tonight and would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t having fun.

The witch – his witch – was an absolute ball of sexual tension. Lucius wasn’t sure he had ever worked a witch up into such a frenzy in his entire life – and he was nowhere near done with her. Hermione stood swiftly and came to him immediately. The girl wasted no time unhooking the clasp of his outer robes to reveal a simple button-down dress shirt and black trousers. She slid the robe off his shoulders and directly folded it to set next to hers. He was impressed with her automatic initiative, she was definitely scoring points.

Lucius watched with delicious anticipation as she slid her fingers down button after button. Her hands were cool on his shoulders when she pushed the garment down his arms. She repeated the process with his shoes, socks, trousers, and boxers, and folded each item of clothing as she went. He was impressed that her anxious energy allowed her to leave his throbbing erection alone, and murmured praise to her for not being distracted. Hermione met his eyes and gave him a tight nod and it was all he could do not to laugh. She was holding on by a string and they both knew it.

Driving them both mad, Lucius instructed her into the next position he expected from her. “Between instructions, or anytime I tell you to wait, you will take the following position.” He demonstrated the waiting position: feet shoulder width apart, back ramrod straight, arms folded behind her at the small of her back, and eyes straight ahead. He snorted quietly when he noticed her eyes glued to his cock. “Miss Granger?” he teased and laughed aloud when her eyes flew to his and a blush to match the pink tinge of her cheeks spread up her neck and across the swell of her breasts.

“Yes, sir. I mean…yes, master.” Her eyes closed briefly, and he could almost hear her silent pep talk.

“Demonstrate.” He couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice. Once she was in position, he adjusted her by pushing her shoulders back and tilting her chin up a bit. “Very good.”

Lucius stepped until he was right in front of her, his erection mere centimeters from brushing her flat stomach. Slowly, never breaking eye contact, he raised his right hand and entangled his fingers into her hair. He tightened his grip and slowly put pressure on her crown, indicating he wanted her to kneel. Swallowing hard, she let him guide her with no questions while keeping her eyes locked to his.

When her face was level with his prick, he took a step back. “Crawl and follow me,” he commanded. He walked backwards, internally swearing as he watched her follow him on all fours. It was bloody sexy as hell. The graceful way she moved made her look like a cat, all she needed was a twitching tail. When the backs of his knees hit the bed, he sat and indicated her to kneel between his legs.

“The next think you will learn is how I like my cock sucked,” he told her smugly. “Are you prepared for this lesson, Doll?”

Hermione’s reply was breathless and almost made him laugh again. She was wound tighter than a two-sickle watch. “Oh, yes, Master,” she murmured, eyes falling from his to rest on his dick.

“Show me what you know.” He gestured before leaning back on his elbows, eyebrows raised in challenge. Apparently, she was feeling confident, because she gave an answering quirk of her lips before slowly reaching out to grasp his cock in one small hand. He made no sound, but his stomach muscles tightened perceptively.

Hermione silently told herself that she was going to give the blow job of her life, and proceeded to do her best to please the man who had two decades of experience on her. She gently stroked his length while considering the best way to go about this. Taking a gamble Lucius Malfoy liked things on the riskier side (hence the reason he was a Dom) she started with his balls. Slowly, she continued to pump him while angling his prick up, so it rested parallel to his stomach. She trailed her tongue down the underside of his length, laving attention to where the base of his cock met his bullocks. He shaved his sac, which was nice for her with what she was about to do. She moved her tongue to caress his left teste before slavering over to the right and sucking it into her mouth. The grunt he released had her doing a mental jig of joy. She continued with enthusiasm for a few minutes, all the while continuing to gently pump him, before returning her attention to the base of his cock. When she started to trail up, Hermione was startled to find a hand on the top of her head, pushing her back down.

She met his eyes and he sneered at her evilly. “Lower,” he instructed, and Hermione felt her mouth pop open slightly.

“Lower than your bullocks, Master?” she clarified. His smirk broadened.

“Yes, Doll.” That damnable eyebrow rose again in challenge. “Perineum massage is quite delightful.”

 _Well, bloody fuck_. She wasn’t so sure about getting that close to another person’s arsehole, if she were being honest with herself. But…well. It’s not like Lucius wasn’t a clean person…? Steeling herself, her tongue quested back down and around his balls again. Most wizards she’d been with had told her she gave great head, but she was actually nervous for his reaction. She wanted him to be pleased with her.

Hermione used her other hand to lift him and without hesitating, dove deep. The growl that left him just about made her jump, but she didn’t let up as she pleasured the underside of his sac and his perineum as requested. The hand that had never left her head grasped her ringlets, and urged her a bit lower. She squeezed her eyes shut and went for it, tonguing the skin between his sack and ass with all the enthusiasm she could muster over her nervousness. Slowly, she started to move back up, sucking his balls again before sliding her tongue and teeth up over his length. The snarls leaving his chest were quite reassuring and the hiss that blew through his nose when she finally circled her lips around his tip made her feel like a goddess. She looked up at him and was rewarded with eyes boring heatedly into hers. Bloody fuck, she was going to come from pleasuring _him_ , for Merlin’s sake.

“Move your tongue continuously,” he demanded, grasping both side of her head as he thrust his cock slowly into her mouth. “Show me how much you love my cock, Doll. Make me come.”

She hummed her agreement, dropping her eyes again and sliding all the way down his length, applying pressure while her tongue danced.

Lucius was losing control bit by bit. Really, he had expected her to be reluctant, maybe even to balk at the thought of going down so low. It had been marked as a “haven’t done before” on her list with a two next to it for enthusiasm to try. He growled as she took him deep again and another snarl was pulled from him. “Faster, witch,” he growled, guiding her head again for a few strokes.

As he neared the end he gave another instruction. “Play with my sac, pull gently when I come,” he told her, his voice was gravely. She complied immediately, redoubling her efforts on his shaft as his breathing grew more ragged.

“Swallow it all,” Lucius grunted as her scrumptious mouth pulled up again, her tongue swirling his slit. On her next descent he erupted, his cock pulsing heavily into her mouth as his fist twisted in her mane of curls. That had taken entirely too little time, but he had been dreaming about her hot little mouth around him since that first scene. He noticed a slight gag as she swallowed around him while continuing to suck with force. Lucius’ hips jerked in pleasure and he muttered praises to her as she licked him clean.

Lucius watched her with heavy lidded eyes as she returned to kneeling and she watched him back expectantly as his breath calmed. “Stand,” he instructed after a few steadying breaths. “Get your… _friend_ …from your purse.”

Hermione all but ran across the room. When she turned back to Lucius, he was sitting at the end of the bed in a conjured upholstered chair. His arms were resting calmly on each arm rest and one foot was propped on his opposite knee. When she moved back to him, he held out his hand. Suddenly feeling shy (only Merlin knew why – she should not be shy after what they had already shared) she handed him the black silicone rechargeable sex toy. He turned it in his hand, and she was a bit mortified at how … worn the toy looked. Her gaze fell to the ground.

“This looks well loved, Doll,” he teased her with another of his maddening smirks. “Have you had it long?”

“Yes, Master,” she said softly. Her bloody cheeks were on fire. Why in the world was this so embarrassing?

“Speak freely,” he told her. “Tell me what you like about this toy?”

“It’s comfortable, it feels good, and it gets me off quickly every time.” Her answer was immediate, even if her voice quivered with her discomfort. She was waiting for him to laugh or tease her more. He did neither.

Instead his voice deepened and roughed. “Show me,” he handed it back to her.

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Excuse me, _Master_ ,” he corrected. “One more slip with my title tonight and you’ll be receiving a spanking instead on an orgasm, Miss Granger.”

 _Shit!_ “I’m sorry, Master,” she whispered.

“Do you really need clarification, or are you just surprised, Doll?” Lucius voice returned to his kind tone at her quick humility for her slip up.

“Surprised, Master,” she clarified.

“I want to see how you please yourself, Miss Granger.” He gave her a genuine smile and gestured to the bed. “Show me.”

Hermione took a deep breath before reaching for her toy. Lucius watched her with hungry eyes as she arranged a couple of pillows and settled herself on her back. “Just using Fabio, Master? Or do you wish to see my normal routine?”

Lucius raised his eyebrows and his smirk turned into a full-on leer that made her stomach clench in delicious anticipation for what felt like the millionth time that night.

“I wish to see everything, Miss Granger.” His tone was thick with desire, and Hermione did not miss the way his cock was coming back to life. She nodded and rested her head back on the pillows.

_You are alone – in your bedroom. You do not have an audience. You are going to finally get that fucking orgasm you have been dying for all week. Relax, Hermione. Just…relax._

She started by lightly trailing her fingertips across her abdomen, through the valley of her breasts, and up the column of her throat. She wet the pointer and middle fingers on her right and then left hand and reach to pluck her nipples, arching into her own hands and letting out a soft moan. _See, you’ve got this! Just like at home…breathe._ She cupped her breasts and rubbed her nipples a little longer before sliding down her stomach again and into the trimmed curls at the apex of her thighs. She already knew she was fucking soaked. She basically had been all damned week long. She heard his heavy exhale as she gently dipped the two fingers of her right hand into her opening to gather the moister there and spread it through her folds and up to the pulsing nub of her clitoris. Her teeth sunk heavily into her lower lip and she whimpered when she brushed the bundle of over-sensitized nerves. She was such a hot bloody mess tonight. It would literally take her five second to come if she really went at it, but she knew he wanted more then that. She alternated rubbing it lightly, circling it slowly, and then sliding back down to dip her fingers into her pussy. Her hips bowed off the bed without conscious thought as another low moan left her lips and she was almost surprised to hear Lucius’ low growl of approval.

Hermione trailed her left hand back up to tease her right breast as her right hand continued to play her center. Rub, twirl, dip. Rub, twirl, dip. She repeated her pattern until her legs were trembling. She gave herself a bit of breather by blindly seeking out Fabio. She didn’t bring any lubrication with her, so she went the old fashion route and brought the toy to her lips. She opened her eyes to meet Lucius’ as she dropped her jaw wide and slid the artificial cock into her mouth. His dark, heated gaze on hers was almost too much; she slid her eyes closed again as her breath hitched before removing the toy from her mouth and down to slide through her own juices. Just before sliding it into her it into her sopping passage, she clicked the button three times (to her favorite setting) which sent the toy into a buzzing frenzy. Bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzzzzzzzzzz. Bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzzzzzzzzzz.

If the noise surprised him, he didn’t comment. Perhaps he was too enraptured by the low, heavy mewl that left her as the silicone cock with the clit stim hit her g-spot and her clit at the same time. She moved it only twice and she was on the edge. “Fuck,” she hissed. “Maybe I come, Master?” she asked softly, feeling confident that this time he would finally… finally say –

“No, you may not.” The surprised, anguished rush of breath left her as she quickly pulled Fabio from herself and pressed her knees together while sitting upright onto one hip. She was worried for about point two seconds that she was going to come anyway (she had been so very close) even though she had stopped the moment he had told her no, and her eyes met his in crazed panic.

Even though Lucius–Sadist–Malfoy’s face was smooth, his eyes were glimmering with humor as he took in her wild expression. “Very, _very_ impressive Miss Granger. I wondered for a moment there if you were going to remember to ask, being that I did not ask you to show me how you make yourself come, just how you pleasure yourself.”

She didn’t answer him, just focused on her erratic breathing as her body slipped from overdrive at the top back to neutral. She was struggling to keep the frustration off her face and the tears out of her eyes, but knew her lips were trembling.

“Is there something you wish to say, Doll?” His lips twitched as his eyebrows rose, daring her to voice her displeasure.

She took a deep breath. “I just have a question, Master,” she said after a moment, her voice wavering slightly.

“You may ask,” he told her.

“Am I going to be allowed to come tonight?” It was obvious to Lucius she was on the verge of bursting into tears, and he knew right then and there that he needed to move along and stop teasing her. He’d pushed her to just before the breaking point and, while it was good to know what her current stamina was, he needed to give in to her, so she could cope with the rest of the evening.

“Doll, look at me,” he told her. She did, and it made him _almost_ feel guilty to see the sheen of tears on her eyes. The trembling of Hermione’s body was slowly ceasing, and he moved to sit at the end of the bed, reaching to lay a hand over her ankle. “You can handle what I am having you do. I need you to have confidence in yourself.”

“Yes, Master,” she replied, giving him a nod as her eyes hardened with resolve at his sureness of her abilities.

“Come, let’s get you some water.” He reached for her hand and, when she was standing, led to the cupboard above their clothing. Lucius gave her a bottle of water that he chilled with his wand before leaving her to rest against the wall while he moved back to the center of the room.

Despite feeling her heart rate and breathing equilibrate, Hermione was practically out of her mind. The wizard was surely a sadist. Plain and simple. She was going to die, and she was going to do so unfulfilled. She drank the cool water Lucius had given her and watched curiously as he waved his wand, causing the ceiling to melt away. A touch of trepidation crept through her as she looked up. Tracks ran across the ceiling from east to west and north to south. Chains and ropes were attached to the tracks with carabiner-like clips.

Hermione glanced at Lucius to find him watching her appraisingly with a smug look and a teasing grin. A grin that held promises of much more to come. Hopefully, _her_. As overheated as she felt, the fiery look on his face while he adjusted a set of ropes sent her body temperature to a whole new depth in the fires of Hades.

She felt a trickle of perspiration run down her back as her body shivered with anticipation and a touch of apprehension of what was to happen.

As if teasing her hadn’t been enough.

As if bringing her to the brink of sweet release, _three times_ , hadn’t been enough.

Clearly, it hadn’t been – not in his eyes anyway. Did this man somehow get confused and forget she was a novice at all this? Hermione huffed internally as she watched him. _No, he’s simply a sadist. You’ve signed your body and D/s education over to a man who clearly wants to torture you to death!_

As though he could read her mind, Lucius let out a low chuckle as he pulled on the ropes to check them. He looked at her with a playful grin. “Ahh, pet. You’re so cute when you sulk.” Gesturing towards her clothes by the cabinet, he commanded, “Charm your heels to stiletto height and put them on.” He paused to watch her. He would need her to have extra height for what he had planned.

He spoke as he walked to a chest of drawers she hadn’t noticed. “Normally, I would have my submissive kneeling and not watching as I prepare a set up like this.” He opened the second to the bottom drawer and pulled out a long, metal object. Placing it on top of the chest, he turned back to her, all teasing was gone. His eyes flashed with an intensity and a hint of anger that confused her until he spoke. “I saw the report of what happened with the new Dominant who attempted to suspend you.” He started to approach her as his tone softened with his reassuring words. “I want you to know that I will not hurt you. I wanted you to watch as I prepared everything for what you are about to experience.” He was close and lightly caressed her cheek. “You are safe, Doll.”

Hermione tilted her face into his hand and pressed her lips to his palm, feeling a warm soft glow from within. Lucius wasn’t just her Dominant, he was her protector. She closed her eyes and whispered with heartfelt sincerity, “I trust you completely, Master.” She did, too. For all her internal musings about his torture by orgasm denial, Hermione knew this Dominant would take care of her.

Lucius swallowed heavily, forcing himself to think about the scene ahead and not the surge of affection he felt for this witch who embodied all that was perfect in his mind.  

His voice sounded raw in his own ears. “Let’s get started.” Taking the almost empty water bottle out of her hand, he led her to the center of the room. He stepped behind her, gently rubbing her shoulders and down her arms to her wrists, where he pulled them behind her. He leaned forward and whispered seductively in her ear as he rubbed her wrists lightly. “I can’t wait to see your delicious little body restrained for my pleasure.”

A slight tremble quaked down her overheated flesh as her mind swirled with visions of what might be to come. He whispered an incantation and she felt soft ropes encase each elbow individually and coil down to her wrists. She felt the ropes intertwine, bringing her wrists together. “You will safeword if at any time you feel discomfort from the ropes or the position I am about to put you in. You will safeword if you need me to stop or slow down; red for stop and yellow for caution. Understood?”

“Yes, Master,” she responded.

She felt his fingertips gently press her forward as he commanded softly, “Bend over at the hips, Doll. Bring your shoulders parallel to the floor if your body allows you to do so comfortably.”

As she did as she was instructed, Lucius held her wrists in place. She then heard another whispered incantation before she felt her arms being drawn up towards the ceiling behind her. Hermione was quite limber and, while it was awkward, the position wasn’t uncomfortable. The ropes felt secure, yet were not chafing her, and her muscles and joints did not feel strained. Arching her back and widening her stance helped her maintain the position more comfortably. A slight hiss and a mumbled, “Beautiful,” from her Master’s lips led to the small smile that crept across her face.

She could hear Lucius step away from behind her and had to fight the flash of insecurity from being left while bound. It sounded like he was retrieving the metal object from the dresser and the tension left her when he returned.

A warm hand was on her bare bottom and stroked down her left thigh, behind her knee, and to her ankle where she felt a soft cuff encompass her. A loud click left the cuff secure around her ankle. “Spread your legs a little more, Doll.”

Hermione moved her right foot further from her left. She let her head fall forward so that it was hanging upside down and she could see the ground and her feet behind her. She watched as Lucius placed another padded cuff around her other ankle and clicked it into place. The two cuffs were attached to opposite ends of a black, metal bar, leaving her unable to move her feet in any significant way. Lucius ran his hands along the bar and checked each cuff one more time before standing behind her.

His hands stroked from her lower back up to her shoulders. “Doll, tell me, are you in any way uncomfortable?”

“No, Master. I feel…awkward, but not uncomfortable.”

He spoke factually and began to pace around her. “This is the strappado position and you have what is called a spreader bar between your ankles.” He paused in her periphery, and Hermione could see him stroke his hardened erection a few times before he continued pacing. “I find this position to be a particular favorite of mine.” He stepped in front of her, grabbing her hair roughly and pulling her face up. “You will see your mouth is at the perfect height for sucking my cock and your cunt is at the perfect height for fucking.” _Ah, so that’s what the stilettos are for_.

Lucius Malfoy was a sexy wizard. Lucius Malfoy talking dirty was a sexy wizard on steroids. There was something so unexpected about it – the most prim and proper of the pureblood aristocrats saying words like ‘sucking’ and ‘cock’ and ‘cunt’ took depravity to a whole new level. Add that to his strong hands roughly pulling her hair and Hermione knew she was done for. She was going to come, and the man hadn’t even touched her between her legs yet. She felt moisture building at her core once again and could smell her own arousal.

His tone was teasing as he stepped away from her. “Tell me what you want, Doll. Ask for it.”

Hermione swallowed roughly, the words spilling out urgently, belying the calm she was no longer able to impersonate. “Please, Master…fuck me. Please take me deep and hard.”

A hand slapped her bottom as he walked behind her. It jerked her body in the restraints, pulling deliciously on her arms and making her gasp with pleasure. His movement paused, and Hermione felt a surge of anticipation as he stepped up behind her. “You look so fuckable, Miss Granger. Tell me, what would your little Gryffindor friends say if they could see you now? Tied up so willingly? Trussed like a whore and begging for the cock of your Slytherin Master?”

“Mother of Circe,” she whispered, more to herself than him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite hear that,” he goaded. “Was that you, Miss Granger? Begging for my cock? Begging to be fucked?”

“Yesss,” she hissed. Hermione’s breath was coming out in pants as she tried to control herself and form coherent words. “Please, Master…please.”

He laughed, and she groaned in desperate frustration. “Hmm, not yet, Doll. I don’t think you want it quite bad enough.”

Hermione let out a choked mewl of anguished protest as he stepped away from behind her.

She tried to slow her breathing as she felt him swiftly re-approach, but only succeeded in making her respirations come even faster and shallower. She let out a grunt as his large hand swatted first her left ass cheek and then her right.

“Perhaps an introduction will get you to the proper state of mind. Doll’s delectable and delicious ass meet strap, strap meet Doll’s delectable and delicious ass.”

She heard it before she felt it; a loud slap and then a sting of pain across her right butt cheek. A squeal left her mouth as another loud slap left behind a second bite of pain on the opposite side. “Fuuuck,” she growled. She wanted to stamp her foot to try and dispel some of the sting, wanted to rub her thighs together to disperse the tension in her quim, but the spreader bar prevented that. None of her aches could be appeased even a bit without the free movement of her legs. It was agony.

Hermione’s head was spinning into the depths of delirium. “Oh Master, please! Please… Fuck. Me.” She felt heat on her bottom as her body’s prostaglandins went into overdrive. _Oh jeez, did I really just think about prostaglandins during a spanking? Draco would have a field day._ This was when Hermione knew she had officially lost her mind.

Another bite of the strap had tears beginning to form. Not tears of pain, but tears of arousal. Tears of frustration. Tears of anticipation. Tears of desperate need. _Slap._

The tears began to fall, and her control was slipping. Her body began to quiver, and small gasping sobs escaped her lips.

Lucius stepped around in front of her and gently tilted her face up with a light brush of his forefinger under her chin. His thumbs gently wiped her tears. His voice was soft and tender, yet his words were teasing and cruel. He already knew the answer. “Ask me properly, witch. Ask your Master for what you so desperately desire. Make him understand the depths of that need.” Her whisky colored eyes were red rimmed and wet, her pink lips trembled with acute need. He could see it as plain as the nose on her face. It radiated in waves off her.

“Master, please. I need your cock inside me. I need to come. I need to come as only you can make me. I’m losing my mind.” Her voice was a rasp and Hermione drew in a shuddering breath. Her words were barely discernable as she whimpered, “I’m desperate for you, Master. I’m desperate for your touch. Please make me come.”

Lucius had driven many witches to the point of frantic desperation. He had taken many to the point of tears from shear desire and need. Bringing submissives to the brink, only to deny them, was such a fun game to play. Making them beg was a favorite pastime.

But never…never in twenty years of this game…had it _not_ felt like one. Not for him anyway. Until now. Hermione’s desperation moved him. It stroked not only the ego of the Dominant within him, but a nurturing part of him, as well. A part of him that rarely, if ever, appeared during a scene. Lucius didn’t just want to hear her scream out her climax and get himself off in the process, he wanted to take her to a place she had never been before…and he wanted to go there with her.

He stepped behind her and fell to his knees. “You are allowed to come now, Doll.” Without another moment’s hesitation, he buried his face in her folds, eliciting a delicious squeal and another sermon to God. Lucius smiled internally. Given how many times the blond had inspired prayers and shout outs to God over the years, he couldn’t help but feel the entity was in his debt.

The minute the warm tongue of her Master touched her, Hermione felt her body erupt. “Oh, Gods. Oh _God_! _Yes, yes, yes!_ ” she gasped in a deep breath before a wordless mewl of pleasure left her. “Ungghhhh!” Hermione lost all sense of control, her body thrashing with abandon as the orgasm of her life ripped through her in wave after wave of blissful contractions that milked her core and left her feeling as though she were floating through space. If it weren’t for the bindings holding her up, she would have melted to the floor.

Lucius continued lapping her folds and her clit. She tasted like a tangy honey. “Again, Miss Granger. Come again.”

Hermione was still catching her breath from her earth shattering orgasm, but Lucius obviously felt no mercy. He grinned into her folds as his expert tongue lapped almost painfully against her over-sensitized clit. It was maddening, and her body jerked and convulsed as she attempted to pull away and let herself calm. Of course, the bindings prevented this, and she felt herself climbing to the peak once again. When his tongue moved further up and teased her virgin, puckered hole, she practically saw stars. When that tongue began to probe her in a most depraved way and expert fingers slid in her cunt to fuck her pussy and tease her g-spot mercilessly, Hermione no longer simply saw stars – she was floating amongst them. Her vision went black as she came even harder than the first time, nonsensically screaming her release.

Lucius stood, still holding her exquisite hips to steady her after her second orgasm hit. Unable to contain himself any longer, he thrust himself into her tight channel before she calmed. Merlin, she felt amazing. _Fuck! Why did you wait all week to take her!_ Not one to deny his witch what she had asked for (and not wanting to disappoint) Lucius fucked his submissive just as she had asked – deep and hard. He pistoned in and out of her from behind, causing short vocal gasps and squeals to erupt with each thrust. When he felt her walls begin to tighten on him, he leaned forward to reach around with his hand and pinch the hardened nub that was her clit.

He whispered seductively in a voice that was thick and raspy, “Come, slut.”

Hermione was playing catch up. When he had slid into her and began to pound her relentlessly, her mind was left behind as her body simply responded. She wasn’t thinking about coming - she wasn’t thinking about _any_ thing. She was still floating through the Milky Way and coming back down from ludicrous speed that was her second orgasm. Apparently, her body didn’t need her mind…thank you very much.

When she began to form conscious thought again, she was already at the peak of the rollercoaster. The minute Lucius’ hand pinched her nub and he whispered in her ear, Hermione felt her body plunge down the drop. She had given dirty talk a two on her list, but clearly, she had _grossly_ underestimated its appeal.

She felt his grip tighten on her hips as he tensed and let out a feral growl. She could feel his cock pulse its release inside her as her body bowed in response to her third climax in less than fifteen minutes. She felt her eyes roll into the back of her head as her legs trembled violently and her shoulders pulled sweetly in their bindings. She was still catching her breath and could barely keep her eyes open when she felt him gently kiss down her spine and whisper words of praise. “Perfect, beautiful Princess.” She was done, she was Jell-O. There was no way she’d ever walk again.

She felt her arms being lowered behind her and Lucius’ hands grip her shoulders. As she came to an upright position, Hermione felt the coils of rope gently untwine from her elbows and wrists. Lucius kept himself pressed close, her bum resting against his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her hips to hold her steady as he crouched and unclasped the cuffs on her ankles. She felt the weight of the spreader bar fall away and suddenly she was weightless, as well.

Lucius scooped Hermione to his chest and carried her to the bed in the corner of the room. Unable to keep her eyes open, but desperately needing him, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and purred into his throat. “Master, thank you.”

“Ahhh, Doll. It is I who must thank you.” He lay her down tenderly and softly caressed her cheek before leaning over to gently kiss her mouth. “You were perfect, pet.” He opened the bedside table drawer and pulled out a jar of rose scented balm. “Roll onto your stomach. I’m going to take care of you now. You may sleep.”

He watched as she rolled over and smiled to himself as barely audible words fell from her lips. “Mm…kay. Thank you, Mast..”

Lucius scooped out some balm and warmed it in his hands before rubbing it into her shoulders and biceps and down to her wrists. He then concentrated on her back and worked his way down her hour glass form to her bottom which was still deliciously pink from her soft spanking. He massaged the cream into the globes of her ass and scolded himself when he felt his groin begin to stir. He was like an adolescent with this witch, it was unnerving.

He continued to rub the lotion down her legs and then pulled a blanket up to cover her as soft snores began to escape her mouth. He would let her sleep for twenty minutes and then he would see her home. He swallowed down the disappointment, knowing that it would be inappropriate to take her back to the manor. For no matter how much he liked her, he knew her ultimate goal was to attract another. For now, Lucius needed to find his contentment in being her Master. It would have to be enough.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

 

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**  

* * *

**Saturday December 30 th  
7:32 AM**

Dearest Doll,

I trust you slept well after our exploits last night, pet. I know I was hard pressed to rouse you enough to see you home. When you wake, I have a brief assignment for you as well as some instructions for tomorrow.

First, we never did establish what exactly I wish for you to do with this journal. I would like for you to enter what you have eaten daily. You may put it into the notebook after each meal, or you may enter it all at the end of the day. A simple description will suffice. Example: Breakfast – hard boiled egg on a muffin with a banana.

You have until 10:30 each night to enter your dietary choices for the day or you will be punished the next time I see you. Hmm…I think five strikes with a strap or paddle of my choosing for each offence would be appropriate. And just in case you think that wouldn’t be so bad, I dare you to miss a day and find out. That would be fun for me.

Second, you will strive to get seven hours of sleep each night. I heard your concern about this task, but I will maintain its importance. You will record what time you went to bed and what time you woke every morning before 9:00. A simple: 11:30-6:30 will suffice. If you know you will not get seven or more hours of sleep, you will explain why briefly before you go to bed at the end of the day. We will discuss your reasonings and punishments will be dealt with as I see fit. Punishments may include physical or restrictive – such as a spanking OR having to stay home from the club one night in order to “catch up” on your sleep. I have a room being prepared for you at the Manor, and I _will_ make you sleep there if this rule is consistently brushed aside.

Third, please keep track of your exercise. You are very slender, my little slave. I know you pride the fitness of your physique, but even healthy pursuits in excess can be detrimental. I want to monitor your intake of calories with your output of exertion.

The formalities completed, I wish to discuss New Years Eve with you. I do realize that it is a Sunday, and outside of our weekly scheduled dinners, you have no obligation to me. However, I was hoping that I could entice you to submit to me tomorrow evening. There is a yearly masquerade ball at The Dungeon and nothing would make me happier than having you on my arm. Please answer the question of your accompanying me post haste and I will respond with further instructions.

Yours,  
Master

* * *

**Saturday December 3oth  
8:04 AM**

Master,

I have read and understand all your instructions, sir. I will do my best to comply with them always.

I have no plans for New Years and even if I did, would change them to happily submit to you. Please arrange times for your convenience. I await further instruction.

Yours,  
Doll

* * *

**Saturday December 30th  
8:47 AM**

My precious Pet,

You have no idea how much your words have pleased me. Your instructions for tomorrow are to complete your normal routine through lunch and then take at least a two-hour nap. You are to present yourself to my mercy at 4:30 in the afternoon at Malfoy Manor as my submissive until we leave for dinner at 7. After dinner, we will return to the Manor to change into our costumes before attending the ball. You will submit to me until Monday morning when you wake. I look forward to tomorrow, pet.

Affections,  
Your Master

* * *

**Saturday December 30 th  
10:11 AM**

Master,

Sleep – I fear I did not attain seven hours of sleep last night as I was with you at the club until 1:00 AM. I slept from 1:30-7:30 when my collar became warm with your journal entry. If it would please you, I will offer to nap this afternoon to make up for lost sleep.  
Breakfast – Oatmeal with brown sugar and cream, a banana, and tea with sugar.  
Exercise – Free weight training, upper body. 40 minutes.  
Snack – trail mix – dried fruit, nuts, and dark chocolate.

I am also looking forward to tomorrow.

Yours,  
Doll

* * *

 

**Saturday December 30th  
10:22 AM**

Yes Doll,

Your offer to nap would please me. At least an hour. Enter the times in your journal. Once you have done this, you are forgiven for your transgression.

Master

* * *

**Sunday December 31 st  
1:13 PM**

Master,

Sleep – 11:30p-6:30a  
Breakfast – Two poached eggs, multigrain toast, mixed berries  
Exercise – Six-mile outdoor run  
Snack – apple with peanut butter  
Lunch – Shrimp salad with mango and cucumber  
  
I will be laying down shortly. I plan to take a mild sleeping potion that lasts 2 hours. I’m excited and nervous and feel I will not be able to rest despite not sleeping in this morning. Looking forward to our evening together, Master.

Yours,  
Doll

* * *

 

Lucius stared at the words that had appeared a little over two hours ago in his copy of their communication journal. _Yours, Doll_. She had signed every note thus far with this farewell, even when she had penned in her daily requirements before she had gone to bed the night before. So far, she was doing well with his eating and sleeping demands, however, her office had been closed the week between the holidays. He wondered how much that would change once she was back to work. He let out a long, low sigh before closing the notebook without responding. If he responded he’d be sickeningly transparent in his affection for her, which he could not afford to be.

“Tinny,” he announced to the empty room. With a _crack!_ the elf appeared and immediately sank into a deep curtsy.

“Yes, Master Lucius?” she squeaked. Lucius gave the elf a fond little smile.

“I wish you to prepare the Cornflower guest chambers in the East Master’s Hall.” Lucius instantly fell into his directives. “It must be ready by four-thirty. I will need your expertise tonight with a thick and quite unruly feminine mop of curls. First for dinner out, then again for the costume ball at the club tonight. I also wish you to assist her with her make-up as needed. My estimation for times will be five-thirty and again around nine-thirty.”

“Is the shopping Tinny be doing for the lady?”

“Yes, Tinny,” Lucius praised. “Please feel free to box the outfits as gifts and place them on the bed. All the bits and bobbles women think they need to be pretty can go in the dressing table. This room will be Miss Granger’s when she visits us here until further notice.” He gave a small flick of his hand, gently dismissing the little creature. The elf hesitated for a moment and Lucius raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a question, Tinny?”

“Yes, Master,” Tinny squeaked and gave another bobbing curtsy. “I’s been…well, all we elves’ has been wondering…are yous courting the lady, sir? Is we to be having a new Mistress? Is this be why you is setting hers up ins the family wing?”

The more easily rankled piece of his personality bristled at the question, even as his chest filled with longing. Wouldn’t it be lovely to have a woman’s touch in the Manor again? He let out a slow breath as to not snap at his charge. “No, Tinny. She is a special young lady, that is for sure. You and all the other elves are to treat her with respect any Mistress of the Manor would command, but I am not courting her. I am training her.”

Lucius was aware the elves knew of his predilections for Dominance and, while none would ever dare to openly disapprove (save possibly Tinny), he knew they were wary as to what it meant. Lucius had only ever had two training submissives before, and he remembered both fondly. However, both women had been his while he was married. Therefore, he never brought them to the manor. He would never subject Narcissa to their presence. He respected her too greatly and was grateful for her openness and understanding for his darker tastes in sexual pursuits. He had held affection for both women, but no love. They had been purely physically compatible. Narcissa was the only woman he had ever truly loved, and she had known that.

Before Narcissa had died, he had used his London flat for his submissives. Since Narcissa had died, he had only seriously taken on already trained submissives three times. Two of the woman had lasted less than six months, the other had lasted almost a year. All three of these women had been brought to his home. However, they had been given suites in the guest wing, not in the Master wing. While Hermione was his submissive, he just couldn’t put her in a place less than what was due to her. She was more special to him then past submissives, and he wanted his staff to realize this.

He had contemplated setting her up in the secret Mistress Suite off the Master, but felt perhaps she would not find that as amusing as he would. The room itself hadn’t been used in almost a hundred and ten years. To be a love interest of a Malfoy had been a place of honor. Once upon a time, woman had fought for that privilege. Times had changed, though. Taking a Mistress was no longer socially acceptable. Also, he was no longer married. Even if he could be with her seriously, she would not be his Mistress. Instead, he would be courting her for marriage.

“She is more special to me than past submissives, Tinny.” Lucius surprised himself when he started to explain. “She has become a cherished friend, but I will not be pursuing her for marriage.”

“I’s understanding, Master,” Tinny responded with a prim nod of her head.

“Thank you, Tinny.” Lucius again dismissed the elf with a wave of his hand, and this time the elf _cracked!_ out of existence.

* * *

As expected, Hermione flooed in right on time. Lucius greeted her with a genuine smile as he stood from his wing back chair. He reached out a hand for her. She accepted the gesture, so he could pull it to his lips and kiss her knuckles. “You look positively delicious, all disheveled from your nap, pet.”

She gave a husky chuckled at that as he divested her of her traveling cloak. “Thank you, sir,” she murmured. “The sleeping draught was a little more potent than I expected. I wound up sleeping almost three hours. I am grateful I decided to set an alarm.” Once her cloak was hung, he pulled her hand into the crook of his arm and led her out of the study to the main entry to climb the grand staircase.

“While we are in private, in my home or yours, I would much prefer you call me Lucius. Especially when we are interacting in non-sexual situations,” he told her as they ascended to the second floor. “That is, if you’re comfortable doing so, Hermione.”

“Of course! I would like that, Lucius.” She gave him a brilliant smile, which made him smirk until her brow creased with worry. “I just don’t wish to make a mistake with your title. It is a little confusing. Master at the club, sir in private – unless it’s here and in a non-sexual atmosphere, Mr. Malfoy in public, Lucius for our Sunday dinner… Do you see my dilemma?”

“I do. How about this, I will never punish you for a mistake with my title unless you are under explicit instructions. You’ll be allowed one mistake and a verbal correction as our circumstances change, or as my mood changes. I will correct you, and then you will be expected to continue with that course until I correct you with a new change. The only place you will not be allowed a slip is at the club. There I am _always_ Master. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough, Lucius.” They made small talk as they wandered purposely through the hallways of Malfoy Manor until they reached the suite he’d had prepared for her.

“While you are my submissive, Doll, this room will be yours when you are with me here.” He pushed open the door and Hermione gaped in surprise as she took in her surroundings.

The room was huge. In fact, she was pretty sure her whole flat could fit inside of it. It was done mostly in creams, golds, and beautiful cornflower blue. The massive, bigger-than-king-sized, bed was a four poster with a scalloped cream-colored canopy that had gold fringe. The seclusion draperies were gold and hung heavy and almost concealed the white and gilded woodwork of the bedframe. The head board was also gilded and upholstered in cornflower and sky blue, while the bedding was a shimmery cream and piled with decorative pillows. Behind the headboard, more draperies hung in the same blue hue. A dark wooden nightstand stood on each side of the bed topped with lamps and simple, sage colored upholstered chairs sat next to each stand.

At the food of the bed was a fainting couch, across from which sat a davenport. There was an upholstered coffee table between. A matching arm chair sat next to the sofa. The antiqued hardwood floor – most likely original to the house – was covered by a large oriental rug in deep royal blue, green, creams, and golds. On the floor next to each side of the bed and in front of the fireplace were large, white fur rugs that temped Hermione to shed her shoes and sink her bare feet into.

The fireplace was simple, but elegant. A white wooden mantel framed dark stone. A large portrait hung over the top of it. Next to the fireplace were dark wooden doors that she assumed led to a dressing room or closet of some sort.

There was a large bay window across from the brazier that sported a slender half door that she decided must lead to a balcony. There were four draperies that hung heavily to the floor topped with a scalloped valance. The space sported a dressing table with mirror and two decorative candle-lit lamps. Two ornate, wooden sconces jutted out from each side of the little nook and held large, white pillar candles. On each side of the window alcove were marble topped sideboards covered with nick knacks and a lamp. Above each table were large, gilded mirrors.

 All walls sported low, boxed wainscoting in gilded cream that came to her hip. Above the wainscoting, silk Victorian flock wallpaper hung in gold and cornflower blue and was topped with an intricate boarder before meeting thick, curved crown molding that matched the other woodwork in the room. Each rounded corner of the room was decorated with a Victorian-style hand carved, gilded design. The ceiling was high, Hermione guessed between fourteen and sixteen feet. Out of the center of it hung an ornate brass chandelier.

The most spectacular detail of the room, however, was that on each side of the bed were hand woven tapestries of what appeared to be the Garden of Eden.

“This is incredible, sir.” She turned her lovely doe eyes on him. “I thank you.” She hesitated for a moment before resting a hand on his shoulder, reaching up, and placing a tender kiss to his lips. Lucius responded automatically, pleased with her unguarded reaction. Checking himself carefully as to not wrap his arms around her and pull her into a much deeper snog, Lucius pulled back after only a moment.

“You’re most welcome, love,” he responded. “Now, we best start getting you ready for dinner. I have seven o’clock reservations at _Amortentia_.”

“Oh, my,” Hermione’s eyes widened. She had never been to _Amortentia_ , and was uncertain if the dress she had shrunk down and tucked into her bag would do. “I’m not sure the outfit I chose for tonight will suffice, sir…” She trailed off at the humor filled look on his face. “What?” she questioned.

“Your wardrobe will be provided, Hermione,” he smirked at her as he nodded to the two large boxes on the bed. Hermione cocked her head in apparent surprise.

“I knew you were going to provide my costume, sir,” she said carefully, “but I don’t expect you to outfit me for every get together or date.”

Lucius’ smirk broadened into a grin. “Oh, but Hermione. You signed a piece of paper that allows me to choose your outfits for you in submissive situations. You agreed to submit to me for dinner preparation this evening.”

“I – ” She broke herself off as she let his words sink in. “Oh, all right. I’m not about to argue with my Master.” She shook her head with a rueful smile. “You tricked me,” she scolded with a teasing tone. “I had momentarily forgotten you were a Slytherin.”

This made him chuckle as he carefully wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against the length of his body. Dropping his lips to hers, he claimed his first taste of her tongue for the evening. He pulled back, pleased to find the lustful expression in her eyes before he led her to the en suite bathroom. “Your submission will start with my bathing you, pet,” he told her as she paused to take in the extravagant lavatory. Hermione’s gaze had settled on the huge, copper claw foot tub that was patinaed on the outside. It was a statement piece, and he knew it. This bathroom had been a very recent renovation, and he liked how much she seemed to appreciate its appearance.

His voice and eyes had changed the next time she looked to him. “Strip, Doll. Slowly.”

Hermione swallowed hard, her heart instantly going into double time. “I’m in for a world of delayed gratification again tonight, aren’t I, sir?” she blurted with no censor. This made Lucius throw his head back in jubilant mirth.

“I promise to not be as hard on you as I was this previous week, pet,” he teased, wiping the corner of one eye before he cupped her face in both his hands. They were so large, they almost swallowed her head whole. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead that made her feel quite precious. His chuckles sobered when her eyes fluttered shut and she leaned into him. “It is a holiday, after all. And you were such a good girl Friday night.” His voice had darkened again when he told her how good she had been, and Hermione felt her womb quicken and an instant deluge of liquid heat flood her knickers. He let her go and stepped back.

“Sweet Circe,” she whispered. Her eyes remained closed as she took a deep breath, stealing herself before opening them and starting to undress. Lucius’ gaze dropped to her hands, which were currently unbuttoning her blouse at her neck. He circled her slowly before moving to lean against the counter, crossing his ankles. A thumb and forefinger came up to cup his chin and brush his lips as he avidly watched her disrobe.

He watched her penetratingly, his eyes often straying to the necklace she had charmed to be a rose-gold choker today. Hermione took great pleasure in the fact that his trousers visibly tightened before her eyes. At one point during her little strip tease, he had flicked his wand at the tub, which magically filled. When she was bare, he said nothing. Simply held out his hand, palm up, gesturing for her to take it.

It felt very overwhelming to be the only one naked, especially when his attention was so heavily focused on her. She pushed down her discomfort and followed his non-verbal directions to step over the lip of and then settled down into the tub, which – of course – was the perfect temperature.

Hermione let out a low moan as she settled into the water, it felt wonderful. She used her fingers to card through her hair and gather it onto the top of her head before twisting it and leaning her head back against the curved lip of the hammered copper. When her attention returned to her Master, she felt a blush heat her cheeks at the unguarded look of desire he was giving her. “Are you joining me, sir?” she murmured, lowering her lashes so they fanned across the swell of her pinked cheeks.

“No, Miss Granger,” he answered her softly. She returned her watchful eyes to him and was astonished to find him rolling his sleeves to mid-forearm. “I wish to wash those curls of yours.” He gestured her to sit forward in the tub so her hair would drain into the water and not onto the floor. Pulling up an ornate wooden stool, Lucius settled at the head of the bath near a table that held all the necessary supplies. He reached around and tilted her chin up slightly before the first silver pitcher of water was gently poured onto her head. He repeated the process until her locks were heavy with the weight of the water. There was a pause and then soap slicked hands tangled into her hair, finger tips massaging her scalp.

Little whimpers of pleasure left her as Lucius took his time washing, then conditioning her hair. He massaged her temples and scalp and neck, slipping his fingers around and under the piece of jewelry that marked her as his. He made her feel as cared for as a small child. Hermione had brief thoughts of how silly this should make her feel, but in reality, the word “cherished” kept flitting around the recesses of her mind. She had read about this part of submission, of course. However, it was something she had not thought to experience with Lucius. Her understanding was that a relationship with more of an emotional connection was where this sort of bond would be forged.

Lucius had always enjoyed this part of having a collared submissive. When doing impromptu scenes with random women at the club, the emotional connection of a D/s relationship often fell to the wayside. Of course, there was aftercare – massages, creams, healing potions, blankets, water, food, holding someone – but the intimate caregiving side was missing. And Lucius took as much pleasure in these simple acts as he did the Dominant performances. They were the part of this lifestyle that allowed him complete control over another’s activities of daily living. It took time and patience and mutual understanding to cultivate this intimacy.

Today with Hermione should have been awkward, as it was their first time participating in an activity like this. It only wasn’t because of the relationship they had built with each other over the last couple of months. It was even less awkward because of their compatibility. Whether she would admit it or not, they were extremely well-suited.

When he finished with her hair, he piled it on top of her head and used a few sticking charms to keep it there. Then he dampened and soaped a flannel. With one hand, he encircled her neck, using the tips of his fingers to apply light pressure and raise her chin out of the way. He guided her head to rest in the curve of his arm while he let the flannel glide down between the valley of her breasts. He was turning her on, which was evident in the way her breathing changed and her nipples tightened. Patiently, he ignored the tightness of his slacks and continued to methodically wash her, re-lathering the flannel as needed.

He directed her to stand and turn to face him while smoothing the wash cloth down her stomach to her hips and thighs before gently washing her mons. He stifled a chuckle when her hands tightened into fists at her sides and her head dipped back as a low mewl escaped her. When she was again sitting with her back to him, he used the pitcher to rinse her upper body before delving his hands below the heat of the water to her lower body. She squirmed wonderfully, soft little pants breaking the silence between them.

The entire time the only words he spoke were soft directions. The tension was mounting lusciously in her body and, wanting her to be relaxed, he felt he would play nice and help her relieve the pressure.

Lucius pressed his cheek to the damp hair at the side of her head and settled his mouth so his low tenor of murmured words would fall directly into her ear. His lips would brush the delicate cartilage there when he spoke. He encircled his left hand around her breasts, letting it slip and slide over the damp skin and tease her beaded nipples as his right hand disappeared into the water to delve into her folds.

“You like this, don’t you princess?” he murmured as he pulled one nipple with his fingers, rolling it, and causing her to gasp loudly and arch her breasts into his hand.

“Yes, sir,” she answered breathlessly.

“Tell me what you like about it, pet,” he demanded, all the while his right hand slowly slid lower. She rolled her hips, trying to get his fingers to move more quickly to her desired destination.

“It makes me feel wanted,” she whispered, shuddering as two fingers parted her labia and slid through the silky smoothness of her sex.

“And…?”

“And cared for…cherished…” Her voice was barely audible.

“Yesss,” he hissed into her ear as his digits slipped back the hood of her clitoris and touched the pearl of nerves.

“Mmm!” Hermione bit her lip as she pressed her head into his face, seeking his affection, his attention. She wanted his mouth on her jaw and neck and lips as his hands played her body like a finely tuned fiddle.

“As your Dominant, I shall always endeavor to make you feel cherished. It is what you are above everything else,” he murmured. “Even when you are being punished, you are cherished. Even when you are denied, you are cherished. When you submit, you are the center of my world. Everything I do is to take care of your needs – all your needs. Your basic needs, your emotional needs, your carnal needs.” His fingers moved faster and faster. His lips stayed close to her ear, but his tongue darted out to taste the mix of clean skin, water, and a touch of salty sweat.

His left hand grasped one breast and squeezed, holding her in place as her hips bucked under his torturous ministrations. “You are treasured, pet,” he continued. “I cherish you. You are everything that I want; you will learn to be everything I need, and I will learn to be everything you need.” Her sounds were becoming more desperate and her body started to tremble violently. “Come for me, Doll. Say my name.”

“Oh, Gods,” she groaned at his command as her body came apart in his hands. “Lucius!” she wept. Her emotions were in turmoil and her heart was thundering. Shattered was the only word she could think of. He had shattered her completely with his ministrations. All of them. The bath, the words, the actions. She sagged back into him, going limp under his hands. She didn’t understand the tears that welled in her eyes, but she didn’t fight them either. His right hand slid back up her body to her chin so he could tilt her face up and around to his.

She expected to find him smug, pleased with himself for turning her into a puddle of sated flesh. Instead his eyes were clouded with an emotion that was surprising, but when she blinked, it was gone. In it’s place was the satisfied smirk she had expected. His lips settled over hers and she sighed into the kiss as he used his thumb to brush away the tears she hadn’t realized she had let fall. “Beautiful,” he murmured against her lips.

When he broke the kiss, he guided her to lay back in the tub. He wrapped his arms around her collar bones, settled his cheek against the top of her head, and waited until her breathing returned to normal. When it did, he pressed another soft kiss to her head.

“I am going to leave you now. My house elf, Tinny, will be by to assist you in dressing and preparing for dinner. I will send her to you in a few minutes. Feel free to soak and relax until she arrives.” Hermione looked up at him as he stood, a soft smile curving her lips.

“What is that look for, Miss Granger?” He raised an eyebrow, a slight sneer curling his lip. Her expression made him feel naked, vulnerable.

“It is gratitude, sir,” she murmured. “Thank you.”

He paused, looking slightly surprised, before his face smoothed into a gentle smile of his own. He should have known it would be something sweet. She was sweet. “You are most welcome, Doll. I will see you in about forty-five minutes.”

She made a noise of agreement even as her head tipped back onto the lip of the tub, her eyes sliding shut with contentment. He gave her one last, long look, before leaving to ready himself for the evening.

A few minutes later, an adorable little house elf popped into the room with the usual, resounding _crack!_ She held a large, thick towel in her hand and tutted when Hermione jumped, startled by the sound.

“Comes, little Miss.” The elf snapped her fingers and the towel spread itself open right to Hermione’s height. “We’s hasn’t gots all night. The Master is expecting yous to be perfects in appearance!”

It took effort for Hermione not to burst into a fit of giggles at the commanding presence of the house elf. A fleeting thought brushed the edges of her mind. _I wonder if that’s how people feel about me? Bossy and sassy all wrapped up in a tiny, little package._

Hermione’s amusement only grew as Tinny (the elf introduced herself when asked) continued to snap her fingers and prance around her while she buffed, lotioned, and dressed her body before she brushed, twisted, and tamed her curls into submission. The result was almost intoxicating.

Hermione stared into the ornate floor mirror in shock. She looked sophisticated, but generationally appropriate. Lucius had not subdued her into traditional witch’s dress robes, but dressed her up in a festive, Muggle-like cocktail dress. It was black, overlaid with metallic gold that reminded her of sequins and had a high scoop neck and long sleeves. It hugged her breasts and hips without making her look cheap, but only fell to mid-thigh. The length of the dress, coupled with the fact it had a low, low scooped back that rested just above her bum, made her feel ridiculously sexy.

Because of the daring back she had to go braless, but was wearing black thong panties with a lace garter belt and sheer stockings. The garter belt was charmed low on her hip, so as not to be visible in the back. On her feet were a sensible pair of shiny black kitten heels. After a moment of thought, she touched her collar with her wand and it widened into a thick, gold choker with the little Malfoy Crest charm dangling slightly. She wore no other jewelry, she didn’t need to.

Hermione’s chestnut hair had been straightened (which was amazing – she would have to beg Tinny for the charm) and had hung just past her hips until the elf had gathered and twisted it into a thick French plait on the left side of her head before knotting it off just below her ear and letting it flow over her shoulder where it reached her waist. There were a few tendrils loose, framing her face. Her make-up had been done naturally except for a light, smoky eye and a deep, burnt red color on her lips. She had laughed when she had read the name of the lip color – “spellbound”.

She was twisting and turning in the mirror, trying to decide if it was really Hermione Granger looking back at her, when a throat being cleared caught her attention. She spun quickly to find Lucius in the doorway wearing a very tailored, GQ-esque looking wizard robe – all black, of course. His hair was caught back at the nape of his neck with a leather chord. She found that it took considerable effort not to gape at him like a buffoon. As it was, her brain lost its filter for the second time that evening.

“You look gorgeous!” she exclaimed, crossing the room quickly. She was completely oblivious to the way he was devouring her with his eyes. Reaching to straighten his bow tie, she then also smoothed a loose tendril of hair from his forehead. “I am one lucky witch tonight, Lucius Malfoy!”

The look of pleased surprise on his face made her smile softly up at him. “I believe it is I who is the lucky one,” he told her, his voice thick with desire. “I wish for you to take three steps away from me, Doll, and then spin in a slow circle. Show your Master how you prepared for him this evening.”

Hermione’s breathing changed instantly as need flooded her with his words. She swallowed hard as she took the requested steps away and complied with his instructions. A hiss of approval when her back was to him caused gooseflesh to erupt over her entire body. Especially when her slow pirouette was halted by fingertips running the length of her spine and a hot mouth pressing to the nape of her neck, over her collar.

“Absolutely stunning, pet,” he rasped into her right ear. “I will be the most envied man at the restaurant tonight.”

She smirked as she leaned back into him. “We shall be quite the pair, then, sir,” she teased in a husky voice. “I believe I may have to hex women left and right, they won’t be able to keep their eyes off _you_.”

She glanced up at him over her shoulder, lips twisted in a coy little smirk. He groaned and rested his forehead against her temple before pressing a light kiss to the crest of her cheek bone. “As much as I wish to skip the meal entirely and ravish you here and now, I fear we will drop from starvation. Our night stretches out long before us. Come, love, we must be off.”

* * *

Hermione had never stepped foot in _Amortentia._ Being a frugal and practical person, she didn’t believe in spending money on expensive food. Clearly, her Dominant held no such reservations and she could only shake her head at the extravagance of the exclusive bistro. Looking around her, the small restaurant was brimming with excitement and activity. Every table was occupied, and bottles of champagne floated amongst the patrons filling glasses that were missing anything more than a sip. It was New Year’s Eve after all, and the celebration was in full force.

A short and stout wizard with a heavy French accent and a waxed mustache that reminded Hermione of Captain Hook, led the couple out a side door to an outdoor patio which was suspiciously warm given the time of year. The patio held a magnificent view of the River Thames with rolling hills in the background. Hermione couldn’t conceal her confusion and Lucius was quick to explain the room was a charmed space.

They were seated at a small table for two and Hermione could not help but notice theirs was the _only_ table. Lucius smiled as he took his seat across from her. “I arranged for us to have the space to ourselves. I wish for us to be able to talk freely without risk of being overheard.”

Hermione smiled softly, amazed with herself for being surprised by the deep pockets and indulgent habits of the wizard sitting across from her. He _was_ Lucius Malfoy, after all.

Lucius ordered champagne and oysters for the table with the ease and grace of a man who was in his element. Catching her contemplative look, his left eyebrow peaked, and his eyes twinkled. “What is it, Miss Granger? The look on your face has me intrigued.”

When she didn’t immediately respond, he added with an encouraging smile. “This is our Sunday dinner, Hermione. You are not my submissive for this meal. Sunday dinners are when we are friends and step away from the constraints of our particular arrangement.”

Hermione smiled. “Sometimes I’m taken off guard by you…that’s all.”

“Well, now I’m really intrigued.” He leaned forward watching her intently.

Hermione was about to speak when the waiter reappeared with champagne and a huge chilled platter of oysters and fresh lemon wedges. When their flutes were full, Lucius lifted his to her and toasted with a smirk, “Here’s to being intrigued by beautiful witches.”

Hermione laughed and was quick to respond. “Here’s to men who catch you off guard.” Lucius chuckled.

“Do you like Oysters, Hermione?”

Hermione shrugged. “I had one in a shooter once. All I tasted was the alcohol surrounding it as it slid down my throat.”

“Well, watch and learn.” Lucius picked up a lemon wedge and squeezed juice onto an oyster before tipping the shell into his mouth and swallowing the oyster down. He smiled and whispered, “Delicious,” with a wink as he picked up his champagne glass.

Hermione cocked an eyebrow. “Well, here goes.”

Lucius watched her suck on her bottom lip as she squeezed lemon onto her oyster. He placed his hand loosely over his mouth to disguise his smile at the look of determination on her face. She looked as though she were adding an ingredient to a potion.

Hermione glanced up at him as she tipped the shell into her mouth and swallowed the oyster whole. Her gaze focused up at the sky as she contemplated the taste. “Hmm, tastes like lemon and salt.”

Lucius shrugged. “Well it’s an acquired taste. Draco hates them.” He swallowed another, watching her sip her champagne. “So, tell me what you meant when you said I take you off guard.”

Hermione swallowed another oyster and then leaned back in her chair. “I think I’m simply getting to know you, Lucius. You surprised me tonight. The bath. It was…unexpected and…I mean…is that something all Dominants do?”

Lucius contemplated his answer carefully. After a moment’s thought he leaned forward with darkening eyes and flirtatious smirk. “I can’t speak for other Dominants, but I am meticulous with my possessions. And you, my precious, are a prized possession that I fully intend to pamper, polish, pet, package, paw, penetrate, pound, plug, punish, and most importantly _, please_.” Each word was more pronounced than the prior and his gaze devoured her hungrily with each punctuated ‘p’.

Hermione felt warmth rush over her from head to toe and back up to her fluttering womb. She took a deep breath and without conscious thought reached up to caress her collar’s locket. “See? That’s what I mean. Sometimes the things you say and do surprise me…and I mean that in the best way, Lucius.” She sipped her champagne enjoying the caress of bubbles on her tongue. “And while I’ve always known you were a rich man, this world you live in – the world of mansions and house elves and the _best_ of everything…” She trailed off and looked around the restaurant, gesturing to prove her point. “Well, it’s a bit…overwhelming. Tonight, I was taken off guard a touch.”

Lucius studied her, absorbing her words. “Does it bother you? My lifestyle? Does my money make you uncomfortable?”

Hermione smiled warmly. “No, Lucius. It suits you. It’s not _my_ world, but it’s yours and it’s delicious to briefly step into it…for so many reasons. I feel very lucky to have you as my friend and my Dominant.”

Lucius swallowed heavily and sipped his drink. He suddenly felt warm, and a tremendous amount of affection for the witch flooded him. He spoke in a low, almost hesitant voice. “Your honesty and kindness catch me off guard sometimes. It’s refreshing and…quenching.”

Hermione didn’t know why, but Lucius’ words touched her, and she had a profound desire to stand up and rush around the table into his arms. She was about to reach her hand out to take his when the waiter reappeared.

“Monsieur, Mademoiselle the specials du jour…” 

Hermione barely heard the waiter speak as she continued to watch Lucius flawlessly engage with him as he ordered their entrees in perfect French with ease.

After the waiter stepped away, Lucius caught Hermione staring. “What?” He asked with a curious grin.

“You speak French fluently. Do you speak any other languages?”

“Only Italian and German,” he answered dismissively and then continued, “Abraxas, my father, was very disappointed I only learned three other languages. He spoke five and my mother spoke four.”

“Why the need to speak so many languages?”

Lucius shrugged. “Communication is key to understanding and you need to understand others in order to manipulate them to your will.” Noticing Hermione’s shocked expression, he added, “My father’s words, not mine.”

Hermione cocked a brow as she sipped her freshly filled champagne flute. “Yet it seems to be a lesson you learned. You are quite talented at bending others to your will.” The innuendo was unintentional, yet Hermione blushed after the words left her mouth.

Lucius chuckled as he rubbed his bottom lip with his index finger. Hermione found her eyes drawn to the motion and, in turn, his mouth. His words jolted her attention back to his eyes. With a teasing grin, he quipped, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

When her questioning eyes didn’t falter, Lucius continued, “The job of a Malfoy is to further the interests and deepen the pockets of his family. Malfoy Enterprises was founded by my great-grandfather. It is my job now – as it was my father’s before me and his father’s before him – to expand the business and therefore increase the profits. Language is a tool that broadens that ability and scope.”

Hermione let out a short laugh. “Well, it seems you’ve done well and surely your father would be proud of you, despite your language deficiency.” Hermione said the last bit with a teasing smile.

Lucius looked down as he readjusted his napkin. “Well, my father would never admit he was proud of anyone. No matter what, one can always do better.”

Hermione paused, surprised by the insecurity he was displaying as he dropped eye contact with her and fidgeted. The champagne was making her bold, so she couldn’t help what spewed out of her mouth next. “And what about Draco? Is he multi-lingual? Do you place the same pressures on him as your father did on you?”

Lucius sipped his champagne before reengaging her gaze. “I was very much like my father for a long time. Draco felt the pressures of being a Malfoy as much as anyone, I regret to admit.”

She didn’t say anything, hoping Lucius would continue.

He sighed heavily and blew out a long breath. “The war, it…changed my perspective on many things, Hermione.” His stare intensified knowingly. “I no longer place the pressures on Draco that were placed on me. He needs to choose his own path and figure out his own way. I will not force him into a marriage that doesn’t please him or a profession he loathes.”

This time Hermione didn’t wait; she reached forward and took his hand. “You’re a good man and a good father, Lucius. It’s obvious you and Draco are close and that he loves you very much.”

Hermione noticed a slight brightness and wetness to Lucius’ eyes and decided the conversation was too heavy. She squeezed his hand tightly for a moment with a toothy grin. “So, where did you learn these languages? They weren’t taught at Hogwarts…at least not when I was there.”

Lucius shrugged. “My summers were spent abroad with family friends and business acquaintances. Languages are picked up rather quickly when you are immersed in them.”

Hermione smiled as she pulled her hand away. “Yes, I imagine they would be.” She smirked conspiratorially. “So, Draco…tell me some wonderfully embarrassing tales about him that I can mercilessly torment him with.”

The change of topic was a good move. Within a few minutes, Lucius was laughing heartily as he recounted stories of Draco’s childhood. Hermione was moved by the love Lucius clearly felt for his son and found Lucius to be a wonderful story teller. He shook his head in bewilderment as he told a story about Draco’s obsession with fashion when he was younger. “He used to go shopping with his mother to all the French and Italian boutiques. He would actually advise Narcissa on what looked good on her.” Lucius looked out over the river. “I was sure he was a homosexual and of course, that terrified me. I pushed him into masculine endeavors.”

Hermione failed to keep a straight face as she replied. “Many straight men are into fashion, Lucius.” Lucius cocked a doubting brow at her with an equally skeptical smirk. She giggled. “Well, based on _my_ experiences with him, you worried needlessly.”

“Yes, he did not disappoint.” After a brief pause, he added. “I’ve changed in that regard as well, though. I just want my son to find happiness, no matter who with. If there is one good thing that resulted from the war, it was me snapping out of the brainwashing of my ancestors.”

Hermione didn’t doubt his sincerity, but she couldn’t resist asking, “What if he doesn’t have an heir?”

Lucius looked her in the eye and responded, “Who’s to say I won’t remarry and have more children?”

Just then, the waiter reappeared with their entrees. Hermione was grateful for the distraction from the uneasy pang in her gut his words had caused. She sipped her champagne, shaking off the flutter of unrest as the plates were placed in front of them _._ _Lucius is your friend, Hermione. His happiness should bring you happiness, not unrest. He can’t be your Dominant forever and his life will move on, just as yours will._

“Everything ok?”

Hermione’s eyes shot up as she was pulled from her train of thought. “Oh, yes. Just admiring the meal. It looks almost too good to eat!” She hoped her words sounded more convincing than they felt.

Lucius smiled. “Well, I assure you it tastes even better than it looks.” As Lucius said the words his hungry eyes stroked down her decollate to her breasts and back up to her lips and then eyes. His implication was not lost on her and she suddenly had a desire to skip dinner altogether. She smiled demurely, feeling herself at a rare loss for words.

Lucius’ eyes narrowed slightly. “Pet, what is it? You look flushed.”

She picked up her fork. _Get it together, Hermione_. “I’m fine. I think the champagne is going to my head.” _Yes, that’s all it is! The champagne_. “I’m sure this delicious meal will put me to rights.”

Lucius smiled warmly. “Well, then…bon appétit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To see photos that inspired Hermione's Malfoy Manor Suite and her dress and hair for New Year's dinner in this chapter, find us on FB or Tumblr:
> 
> Facebook: www.facebook.com/snowand.lissa.7
> 
> Tumblr: LissaDream AND SnowBlind12


	17. Chapter Seventeen

* * *

  **Chapter Seventeen **

* * *

 

 

* * *

She was grinning at him, her eyes sparkling like chocolate diamonds. “Do you like it, Master?” she teased. Of course she was teasing, he hadn’t been able to pick his jaw up off the ground yet. He probably looked utterly ridiculous but…well…he was sure there wasn’t a single red-blooded, female-loving man on the planet who wouldn’t have been stunned speechless by the sight of her.

Lucius had decided that a Maharaja would most definitely bring his courtesan to a party focused on debauchery and sex – and Hermione Granger made one hell of a courtesan. Without being asked, she turned herself for inspection and slowly raised her arms above her head while she undulated her hips. Her sexy little smirk caused him to laugh aloud.

“You know just how damn gorgeous you look right now, Doll, don’t you.” It was a statement of fact. He had tried to keep his face straight, but her confidence and grin wouldn’t allow it.

“Well, I think I only have you to thank for that, Lucius,” she said, not able to stop smiling. “This costume is _so_ sexy!” She twirled again, the skirts of her attire flaring as the slit up to her right hip showed off a slender, shapely leg incased in golden stilettoed heels.

“No,” Lucius shook his head and Hermione’s grin turned confused. “It’s the witch that’s sexy – the costume just enhances her perfections.”

He couldn’t help the smirking leer that split his face when she ducked her head slightly as a brilliant blush bloomed through her cheeks. “There you go, disarming me again,” she murmured.

“I am merely stating the truth, pet,” he said kindly. “Now, come. I wish to make some adjustments to your collar.” She lifted her chin to grant him access to her necklace as she took the remaining steps towards him. He tapped the simple gold collar with his wand, changing it to the elaborate, diamond studded design she would wear at the club. Another tap and the diamonds shimmered and changed into aurora borealis crystals and the metal turned a brighter gold. A final flick of his wand and the branches of crystals grew until the piece covered her collar bones and décolleté.

Lucius stepped back. “A quick learning opportunity, Doll,” he told her softly. “Do you know how to position your body for an inspection?”

The blush that had stained her cheeks deepened. He smirked as he watched her slowly place her feet hip width apart and raise her hands, so they rested at the nape of her head, elbows pointing out. “Good girl.” He gave her a slow wink as he started to walk around her.

The costume had been an excellent choice. It was one piece, the upper portion a haltered body suit that covered her breasts and sides and encased her hips, but left her stomach, back, shoulders, and cleavage quite bare. The underlying fabric was a deep, sea green and was heavily beaded in gold and mint stones and sequins. It connected to the skirt and the beading continuing over the hips and bum before giving way to the same sea green color in a flowy fabric that fluttered to her feet. When she moved, the under skirt showed through in mint. There were golden foil appliques which curled down through skirt as well. Cuffs with matching beading and fringe encircled her wrists, just above her elbows, and the middle of her upper arms.

Her hair was pinned up at the nape of her neck in riotous bunches of brunette curls highlighted with touches of honey and gold. Two long, loose curls started just behind her ears and flowed over each shoulder. She wore a beaded, flowered, and feathered headband, giving an almost flapper-girl look to her hairstyle. Her face was done naturally, her true beauty shining through.

“Gorgeous, Hermione,” he praised. “You may wait.” He watched approvingly as she dropped her arms to rest at her low back. “Very good.” There were a few moments of silence before he crossed the room to gather her cloak. Returning to her, he helped her slip it on while continuing to talk to her.

“A few comments and rules for tonight,” he started. The no-nonsense tone made Hermione’s ears perk up. “First of all – this is a member only gathering. Everyone attending this evening are under full contract with The Dungeon. You do not have to wear a mask unless you wish to.”

“I wish to this evening, Master,” Hermione replied contemplatively. “I would hate for my fame to take away from the evening. I worry that if I were to be recognized, we might wind up with more attention then we would care for.”

Lucius thought for a moment before nodding. “I wondered if you would prefer a mask.” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small, tissue wrapped parcel. Hermione took it and found a beautiful, intricately designed golden mask. “The same spells will seal and unseal it.”

“Thank you, Master. It’s lovely,” Hermione returned graciously, sealing the mask into place.

“It suits you. To continue, it is a more lenient night, being a holiday. People tend to party and slip away to play privately. You and I will be on the main floor the entirety of the night, we will do our own play when we return here tonight.

“There will be no big shows; scenes are typically kept to the Dungeon or the Fetish rooms above and below stairs. That doesn’t mean some people won’t play on the main floor. The main floor will be open to all – people who wish to play, and those who are there to celebrate – as will a private party room. The private party room will be something special. I would like us to be there when the New Year countdown begins.” He smirked at her, his head cocked to one side.

 “You are allowed to speak with Draco, Jonathan, Clarise, Etan, and Rose without my permission,” he continued. “You may speak with any female as long as they speak to you first. I expect your attention to wander, there will be much to look at as everyone will be in costumes and the club will be decorated. However, please keep in mind that _I_ am your focus. You are there for me and my pleasure alone, do you understand?”

“Yes, Master. I understand,” she murmured her consent.

“Wonderful, shall we?” he offered her his arm.

* * *

When they arrived outside the club, Hermione was stunned to see a line of patrons awaiting entrance. Being part owner, Lucius escorted her to the head of the line and they escaped the cold quickly.  
  
The Dungeon was absolutely packed with excited patrons, most of whom Hermione had never seen before. Lucius had explained that these events drew in not only the regulars, but also patrons who only visited the club occasionally as well as many others who only attended these events. The costumes were diverse, but most had some sort of sexual undertone which fit the D/s and fetish inspired lifestyle of its members.

Looking around for someone she knew, Hermione was barely able to contain her laughter when she first caught sight of Draco. He approached, looking miserable and very…green. The practically fluorescent tights were funny enough, but the green pointed hat with the red feather sticking out was more than Hermione could take.

“Hmmm. Peter Pan, I presume?” Hermione held her hand over her mouth as she chuckled.

Draco looked from her to Lucius and back again. “Laugh now, Doll. You may have gotten the _much_ better costume tonight,” he looked her up and down lasciviously, an eyebrow raised in appreciation, “but you’ll get yours. Just wait.” He gestured towards Lucius. “My father has a sadistic sense of humor you have yet to be the victim of. Just give him time.”

Lucius laughed with a mock innocent expression at his son’s jibe but did not dispute the proclamation, leaving Hermione curious. He merely pointed out that if Draco had been as good a submissive to his Mistress as Hermione had been to Lucius, perhaps Draco would not have been required to wear such a costume.

“Where is Diana, anyway?” Hermione asked as she scanned the room, searching for the elusive mistress.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Wendy, as she was to be tonight, is currently home…sick. The appetizers had just been put on the table when she barfed the first time. She demanded I go on without her and stay in costume.” He sighed heavily as he looked around the room. “Gods, it just proves how desperate I am for a Dominatrix that I even submit to her.”

“Draco. That hardly seems fair. She’s sick for Merlin’s sake, you can’t hold that against her!” Hermione scolded.

Draco looked at Hermione impatiently, “Keep up! I thought you were smart? It’s not because she got sick that I’m frustrated, it’s that I can’t seem to find a Mistress who can hold my interest longer than a couple of weeks. She’s rather dull. She’s repetitive, and,  other than Clarise – who is already committed to Jonathan - she’s the only Dominatrix around on a regular basis. The others are very sporadic or committed or married.” He let out a puff of frustration, pulling his hat off and ruffling his hair. "Merlin, I miss Francine." He shook his head and looked at Hermione wistfully. "She was amazing...kept my interest and was tough, but sexy as hell. She mopped the floor with my ass and I loved every minute of it." Seeing Hermione's questioning look, he added, "She had to move away for her job. I keep hoping she'll come back, though."

After a brief pause, Draco’s familiar smirk made its millionth appearance. His hungry gaze cascaded down her form and back to her eyes. “You know, you’d make a hell of a Dom, Doll. After your training…you could practice on me.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Just think about all the fun you would have spanking me.” He grinned openly. “Think of Buckbeak, do it for him.”

“Oh, Ferret. You make an appealing case, but I don’t need to be a Dominatrix to torment you. I merely need to befriend whomever is Dominating you.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed, and Lucius laughed. “Draco, I believe you are playing with fire,” Lucius teased.

Draco shrugged before whispering gut-wrenching and unexpected, honest words that caused Hermione’s breath to hitch. “I just…I just feel like I’m lost, sometimes. I need a good, strong woman to help keep me grounded. I’m lonely.”

Hermione looked from Draco to Lucius, lost for words. Lucius was looking at his son with warmth and surprised Hermione with tender words of wisdom. “In time son. In good time the right witch will come along. She is somewhere out there looking for you as well.” 

Lucius’ right hand was rubbing Hermione’s lower back affectionately and, for a second, Hermione couldn’t help but wonder if Lucius was speaking of her. As though she were the right witch for him. Why did that thought make her feel warm inside? She dismissed it almost as quickly as it occurred. Lucius didn’t feel that way about her anyway… Right? And if he did, it shouldn’t make her happy. She wanted Snape. Snape was the wizard for her, and as soon as her training was complete she would seek the dark man out.

Thinking of Snape caused her mind to wander. She was curious as to where he was and who he was with. Her eyes once again panned the room and she found herself seething with jealousy as she imagined him in the clutches of Britt. Beautiful, Lily-like, perfectly submissive…Britt.

“Pet, I asked you a question.”

Hermione was startled from her reverie by her Master’s firm tone. Her fawn eyes shot up to his penetrating steel grey. She immediately looked down, her tone contrite and her voice soft. “I apologize, Master. The festivities of the room distracted me. It won’t happen again.”

His hand tipped up her chin so that her eyes were once again on his. His voice was hard. “See that it doesn’t. I may have given you leave to speak freely in my presence and take in the sights around you, but your focus should still be on your Dominant. I should never have to repeat myself due to your lack of attention. We discussed this before leaving the Manor.”

“I’m sorry, Master.”

“Yes, you said that,” he snapped as he looked away from her. It was clear he had not forgiven her, and his irritation was lingering.

Hermione swallowed heavily, upset with herself for screwing up. “Please, Master. What did you ask me?”

He looked back to her. “Yes. You would like to know, wouldn’t you? Perhaps next time your focus will be where it is supposed to be.

“I have rounds to make.” He shifted his gaze to Draco. “Please keep an eye on my submissive while I’m away.” He looked back at her. “Stay with Draco. Do not speak to any males except Etan or Jonathan without Draco’s permission.” Before she could answer, he stepped away into the crowd.

Lucius had to walk away. He knew…he just knew where her mind was. She was thinking about Snape and looking for him. It felt like ice water in his veins when it struck him _. It’s your own fault! You entered this agreement fully aware she wanted your best friend. You have no right to be upset with her. It’s unfair to cry foul now!_

His voice of reason wasn’t making him calmer. He knew what he needed to do: step back emotionally and force himself to view her as he had viewed his other two trainees in the past. With fondness and devotion, but nothing more. His resolve hardened, he felt more in control as he distanced himself from her. He could do this. He could be a good and attentive Dominant without becoming overly emotionally involved.

He looked at the entrance foyer and found Snape greeting their newest member. Grateful for the distraction, he approached.

* * *

Hermione had been despondent since Lucius had walked away from her. She wanted to rush after him and beg forgiveness, beg for a punishment so that it could all be forgiven. She knew it would be the worst thing she could do, however. She would simply do her best to please him the rest of the night. 

Draco smiled at her sympathetically. “It’s ok, Doll. He can have a bit of a quick temper sometimes, but it fades just as fast as it appears. He gets particularly stressed on busy nights like tonight, that’s likely part of the problem.”

She absently touched her collar. “No, I screwed up. My focus should always be on him. I hadn’t even realized he had asked me a question. It’s my fault.”

“Come on, there’s Etan and Rose with Jonathan and Clarise.” He gestured towards a large booth not far from where they were standing. Within a few minutes, her worries of Lucius began to ebb as she settled into conversation with her newest friends. The large booth easily sat the six of them. Directly across from Hermione sat Draco, and beside him sat Jonathan, who was next to his Dominatrix of the past few months, Clarise. Rose sat to Hermione’s right and Etan sat on the other side of Rose. 

The costumes of the night had been spectacular, and the persons at the table did not disappoint. Etan and Rose were a gladiator and a Roman slave girl. Clarise and Jonathan were Morgana le Fay and King Arthur. She looked back at Draco. In all honesty, he looked kind of adorable – if not completely miserable.

It didn’t take long before Hermione and Draco were teasing each other with tales from Hogwarts. “Oh, you should have seen him! He was a piece of work…let me tell you! He thrived on making me, Harry, and Ron as miserable as possible,” Hermione chided.

Draco rolled his eyes and looked away from the table, scanning the crowd. His tone was playfully dismissive. “As usual you exaggerate, Doll. Besides, you were rather irrita…” His voice fell off abruptly and the table fell silent.

Hermione looked up, her attention drawn away from the others by Draco’s abrupt cessation in mid-speech. No one enjoyed their own voice more than Draco Malfoy.  Hermione had to stifle a laugh at Draco’s expression. His jaw was hanging open and his eyes were wide and glued to something over Hermione’s shoulder.

“Wow!” Jonathan whispered.

“No shit,” Draco replied. “Holy fuck!”

Reflexively, Hermione turned and looked behind her. She felt her heart race at the sight before her. There was Snape: delicious and perfect in black leather pants with a sword hanging off his hip. His chest was bare, and he wore a Spanish gaucho hat on his head and a black mask. _Zorro…how perfect._

Despite her infatuation with the wizard, it was the woman next to him that pulled her attention greedily. A tall, dark haired, statuesque bombshell stood no more than ten feet away. Bombshell, because there was no other word to describe her. Well, Amazonian, maybe. Standing in stiletto grey heels was one of the sexiest women Hermione had ever seen. At least five-foot ten-inches tall with the heels, the curvy woman stood like she owned the room. Considering she was standing next to Severus Snape, that was quite an accomplishment. Even more alluring was her attire – a grey fitted pencil skirt that came below her knees with a tucked and fitted cream silk blouse. The blouse was long sleeved with a V-neck that hugged a rather large and voluptuous bust.

Her form was pure hour glass – Jessica Rabbit sprang to mind. She was not a small woman, a size twelve if Hermione ventured a guess. Barely any skin showed except the creamy alabaster of her décolleté and her shapely calves, which led to the come-hither pumps. A dark, tortoise shell eye mask completed the look. She carried a ruler for a wand and held it in one hand as she slapped it gently into the other repetitively. Her hair was dark, almost black, and was pulled back in a pony tail fastened at the base of her neck. The glossy, sleek strands fell thickly to her mid back where they ceased in a blunt, perfect line. Hermione felt she looked vaguely familiar but couldn’t place her.

Snape stood beside her, a rare soft smile gracing his face as he engaged the witch in conversation. He appeared to be showing her around as evidenced by his pointing to the doorways and stairs. The witch’s stance and demeanor left no question as to her orientation. She was a Top. Her ruby red lips were striking against her pale, flawless skin as her gaze slowly absorbed the room. She took sexy librarian to a whole new dimension.

“She must be the new Dominatrix,” Hermione said softly. Realizing she was openly staring, Hermione turned back to the table to find Draco’s focus still solely on the mystery witch. Jonathan had regained his senses and re-focused his attention on Clarise, who was looking as though she had swallowed a lemon. Not that Clarise should feel threatened, Jonathan was completely devoted to her.

Her voice trembling, Rose whispered breathlessly, “Master, please! I want!”

“Get in line,” Draco quipped, his eyes stroking up and down his new obsession.

Etan chuckled. “Easy, you two. We don’t even know her yet or what her orientation is. She might be committed already and not looking for a partner or partners.”

Rose had recently taken submission to a female Dom from a hard to a soft limit. Etan was thrilled and had been on the hunt for the right Dominatrix. It seemed Rose had found whom she wanted. Etan, however, would never let anyone near his English Rose without knowing the person was a responsible and experienced practitioner. He would have to learn more about this newcomer. He placed a calming hand on Rose’s knee causing her to instantly stop her fidgeting and ogling.

Hermione looked back over her shoulder and found herself perplexed. She really wasn’t attracted to women, although the scene with Rose had been lovely. However, this woman caused a slight shiver down her spine…partly from desire, but mostly from downright trepidation. There was something very intimidating about the towering beauty, and something quite familiar as well.

Glancing back at Draco, Hermione questioned, “Who is it, Draco? She seems familiar, but I can’t place her. She’s not a Gryffindor – not from our year.” She peeked back over her shoulder to find Snape was leading the mystery witch downstairs.

Draco was shaking his head in obvious bewilderment. “I have no idea, but I have zero intention of meeting her tonight in this get-up.” He pulled off his hat and tossed it on the table. “I’ll need to be looking my best when I make my move.”

Turning to his left and looking past Jonathan to Clarise and asked, “Mistress Clarise, any pointers you can give me? I usually wait for the Tops to approach me, but if I wait, she might latch on to another.”

The look of incredulity that Clarise shot Draco was priceless. It was followed by a snarky smirk that would have put any Slytherin to shame. Obviously Slytherins didn’t hold the corner market on smirks after all, even Muggle-born witches from the States could pull off the signature look with ease! “Yes, Draco. Pointer number one…Don’t approach her like you did me. Don’t be a swaggering, cocky cowboy who comes across like he thinks he’s Merlin’s gift to witches.”

Etan chuckled, and Hermione couldn’t suppress a giggle. She looked at the American witch. “Please, Mistress Clarise. _Please_ share the story! It sounds priceless.”

Clarise’s attention was on Jonathan, her right hand stroking his cheek as she smiled at the memory. Jonathan was practically purring from her attention. “It was my second night here. I had come back to check out a sexy bartender who had behaved deliciously subservient the night before.” Jonathan smiled, clearly recalling the same memory. Clarise’s eyes shot to Draco and she grinned. “I was standing near the bar when suddenly Draco approaches…”

Hermione’s attention was pulled from the conversation by the appearance of her Master. His eyes met hers, no longer bearing a look of penetrating displeasure, but something else… Concern? Apprehension, maybe? Lucius greeted the table briefly and the conversation ceased. It was a natural response to his presence and one he was accustomed to. Being a Dominant, it pleased him. His focus solely on Hermione, he held out his hand. “Come, Doll.” He turned to his son. “Thank you for watching over her, Draco.”

Hermione placed her hand in his large, encompassing grasp and felt relief wash through her when his thumb gently stroked hers. It was such a little gesture, yet the tender motion spoke volumes. She kept her eyes cast down; she would not risk his displeasure again.

She followed him through the crowd to the dance floor. Once standing in the middle, he positioned them traditionally, with his right hand cradling her waist and his left hand holding her right. A soft song began to play, and they started to move.

Hermione looked up, expecting his eyes to be focused on the room and the club. She was surprised to find his attention solely on her. He led her easily to the soft rhythm of the music. Wanting to lighten the mood and move past her earlier infraction, she ventured into conversation and decided a smooth stroke to his ego might help.

Speaking truthfully, she whispered, “You dance very well, Master.”

A slight upturn to his lips accompanied by his left hand releasing her right and moving to her waist proved she was on the right track. He leaned close and whispered, “You’ll find there are many things I do well, Doll.”

She laughed lightly as she lifted her arms to drape them around his shoulders. “I don’t doubt it.” Memories of the past week flooded her mind. She grinned flirtatiously, eliciting a bigger smile on the softening demeanor of the man who had taken her to untold heights since he had come into her life. She unwarily sucked in her bottom lip and cocked her head before adding, “Can I just say this first week with you has been a wonderful introduction to this world? Less than a week and I’ve already learned a great deal.”

She kept her eyes on his as one hand lifted from her waist. His thumb stroked her chin before gently pulling her bottom lip from the clutches of her teeth. His eyes twinkled, and he smirked playfully. “Mmm, yes. Continue to bite that lip and I’ll give you something else to occupy your pretty mouth with.”

Hermione giggled and raised an eyebrow playfully. “Well, if that was meant to deter me from a bad a habit, I fear you are merely reinforcing the behavior with such an intriguing and potentially delicious promise.”

Lucius laughed lightly, and his hands moved behind her to pull her closer, so they were pressed tightly together. She moved her hands from his strong shoulders to the back of his neck where she ran her fingers along his soft skin.

“Now, now, pet,” he cooed. “Are you implying you would intentionally disobey your Master’s wish in hopes of a punishment?” His look was searching and a touch sharp yet held a playful edge.

Hermione contemplated and shook her head. Speaking truthfully, she clarified, “Oh no… Something tells me that would not go over very well, and I would no doubt regret it.”

Lucius nodded as he looked around the room. His hands began stroking her lower back, one venturing own to rub her bottom. “Yes, you _are_ learning, and your instincts are correct.”

Hermione noticed Lucius focusing on one side of the dance floor. She glanced where he was staring to find Snape leaning in a doorway, his onyx eyes watching them intently. Her heart began to race from the intensity of his gaze.

Not wanting to displease Lucius, she quickly looked back at him to find his steel eyes on hers knowingly. He spoke softly. “I told Snape he could share a dance with you this evening…if you are agreeable.”

Hermione swallowed and tried to keep any emotion from showing. “That’s fine,” her voice came out slightly choked as her throat had gone completely dry.

Lucius shook his head lightly. He spoke softly. “Doll, please don’t hide your emotions from me. I know how you feel about him and it’s important you know that you can trust me to protect you. I won’t let him hurt you.”

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat as she continued to stare into eyes that were earnest and rich with affection and obvious sincerity. Warmth crept through her bones towards this man who suddenly felt like more than just a friend – more than just a Master. Her watery stare moved from his eyes to his lips in unidentified need. Lucius dipped his mouth to hers in a soft caress that spoke of tenderness – not Dominance. It was a brief kiss that left her longing. Watching her with a soft smile as he pulled away, he chuckled as his thumb once again gently stroked her bottom lip from her mouth’s capture. Hermione laughed and shrugged. “I don’t even realize I’m doing it.”

The song had come to an end and Hermione noticed movement to her right. Zorro was moving in. Suddenly, her nerves kicked into overdrive and she started to tremble. Hermione’s gaze flew to Lucius’, who immediately pursed his lips in concern. He lowered a mouth to her ear. “You do not have to dance with him if you do not wish to, pet. Just say so.”

“No!” she exclaimed, surprised, and then cleared her throat when Lucius’ eyebrows rose in warning. She hadn’t meant to say it quite so forcefully. “I’m sorry, Master. I meant to say, ‘No thank you, sir’. I’m just nervous.” She ended on a whisper and he accepted her apology with a slight nod. A piano trilled in with an overlay of haunting violin holding a single note and then Lucius was putting her hand in Snape’s waiting one. Hermione sucked in a deep breath as the dark man swept her up into his arms, leading her in a spin so they disappeared a little further onto the dance floor.

One warm hand settled on the bare skin of her lower back, guiding her hips into alignment with his own before he let her hand go just long enough to lift her chin. Amber colored eyes locked to black and Hermione felt her lips part on an electrified exhale. The animalistic charge that had been between them since that first night pulsed in the air around them. Feeling his powerful, leather clad legs brushing against her silky-smooth ones made her pulse jump. _Holy Gods, hold together Hermione! It’s just a dance._

“Good evening, Miss Granger.” Snape’s tone was as silky as ever as it caressed over her skin. This caused her to shiver as goose bumps exploded over her entire body.

“Hello, Master Snape,” she replied demurely. She lowered her eyes slightly, using the gesture to mimic a curtsey before raising them to once again find herself lost in his heated, obsidian gaze. Snape swallowed perceptively at her humble show of submission. Hermione instinctively slid her hand from his shoulder to the nape of his neck when his arm tightened around her lower back before it made a detour to rest over the swell of her hip. His fingers splayed so they brushed the top of her bum. She smirked up at him as he expertly moved them in a simple two step rhythm to the sensual piano and violin of the song.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” His question surprised her. Honestly, she hadn’t been sure what they would talk about. But such a normal question coming from his mouth? It was almost surreal. With a small jot, she realized they had never really _had_ a normal conversation before.

“I am. Master Lucius has been most kind,” she averted her gaze to find her Master in a secluded corner, leaning up against the wall. He seemed to be swirling the liquid in his glass, but his eyes were locked on her and Snape. _Why does that make me feel guilty?_

“He’s been good for you.” The conversation took another surprising turn, which pulled her attention back to the man who had his arms around her. “He was always the better choice for you,” he told her regretfully.

“Please don’t say that, sir,” Hermione scolded softly. “We…well. Master Lucius and I are friends first. We enjoy conversing with each other and easily air our grievances. Part of our contract is an evening meal each week where we work on building our friendship.  
“Don’t get me wrong, I find Master Lucius intimidating and he’s tough, but fair.  
  
“You and I, on the other hand…” she trailed off, worried about over stepping boundaries and putting them back at odds with one another.

Snape cocked his head to the side and a half smile curled his lip. “You and I are like fire and oil, Miss Granger.” His voice, if possible, seemed to go deeper. He pulled her closer, his mouth hovered next to her ear as his breath tickled the small hairs loose from her updo. “You touch one to the other, and the whole place will burn,” he murmured seductively. 

“Merlin,” she breathed, closing her eyes to find some sort of equilibrium. She pulled back slightly after a moment, forcing him to look her in the eye when she spoke next. “You feel it, too, then?” It was said hesitantly, as if she feared his response.

He stared at her silently before leading her in a small twirl and pulling her back to him. Their arms crossed over her belly, his front to her back. She looked up over her shoulder, waiting for an answer. For a brief second, Snape closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to her temple before he spun her away again and brought her back properly.

“Yesss,” he hissed.

Her insides turned to liquid fire. It was just one word, but it was the _right_ word. Gods, she had been waiting for this for how long? Since that first night? For him to just _admit_ he was as affected as she?

A triumphant look crossed her features, her eyes lighting with victory. Snape chuckled. “Bask in the admission to your heart’s content, Miss Granger,” he teased her softly as he stroked the sensitive skin of her midriff with his thumb. “You’ll find that such confessions will be few and far between.” He paused before adding, “It will be while before we can test such theories, however. You have a very long way to go with your training, and I’m aware Lucius is a _very_ …strict…teacher. I’m sure he’ll keep you on a short leash.”

“That doesn’t mean you and I can’t see each other at all,” Hermione pouted. She removed her hand from his and wrapped it around his neck to pull herself closer. Shifting her hips, she deliberately brushed against his obvious arousal. “Just…no…sex,” she breathed. She tilted her head with a smirk and caught her lower lip in her teeth – on purpose this time.

A needy puff of air left his nose and his jaw tightened. Hermione felt a thrill of power at his reaction to her teasing. Once back in control, he looked contemplative for a moment before answering. “I have a few loose ends I need to tie up. However, if you would be agreeable, I would like to take you to dinner. Perhaps we should start on the correct foot this time?”

Hermione felt her stomach explode with butterflies as an idiotic little grin split her face. “Yes,” she replied immediately. Her attempts at playing it cool flew right out the window. “Yes, I would like that _very_ much.”

Her positive answer seemed to make the dark man swell with confidence and the hand that had been drawing little patterns on her oblique muscles moved to meet his other hand at the small of her back before trailing calloused fingertips up and down her spine. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling. They danced such until the song ended shortly later, only separating when the last chord faded away.

Snape took her hand to lead her to Lucius. “I will owl you to arrange a time, no longer than a week.”

“I will be waiting,” she answered softly as they reached Lucius. Hermione was slightly startled when she realized Draco was with her Master. Lucius smiled lightly, and Snape thanked him and told Draco hello.  
  
“Until we meet again, Miss Granger,” he murmured when turned back to Hermione. Gently kissing the back of her hand, he left them in a small trio. She was hard-pressed not to let out some silly little school-girl sigh as she watched him walk away, giddy with the knowledge that she had a tentative date with Severus Snape.

* * *

 

Draco huffed with frustration as he jostled his way through the crowd. Snape had refused to divulge any information about the mystery witch, leaving Lucius as Draco’s only hope for the desired intel.

After scanning the main floor, Draco spied his father standing at the shadowed end of the smaller bar. Upon moving closer, he noticed Lucius’ intense stare and focus was geared towards the couples undulating on the dance floor. Draco paused and watched for a minute, feeling slightly unsettled by the touch of sadness that marred Lucius’ face. He felt his heart clench when he realized it was longing. Draco really didn’t need to look to see the object of his father’s attention, but he did anyway. Sure enough, there was Hermione with Snape. Draco’s jaw dropped as he watched the couple move together languidly and smoothly. Their faces were close, their eyes lost in each other’s. The attraction was palpable, even from across the room.

“I knew it,” he mumbled under his breath. Draco had suspected his father had feelings for Hermione beyond that of a training Master, but now he was sure of it. He would welcome Hermione into the Malfoy fold if it went that far, but it seemed to Draco the witch had sights set on their former Professor. The last thing Draco wanted was for his father to end up hurt. Hermione had brushed off Draco’s opinion on Friday evening, but Draco was now certain he was correct. He would have to watch this situation closely and intervene if necessary. For now, a little distraction might help. Besides, he wanted that intel!

Lucius watched from a dark corner as Hermione and Snape moved together on the dance floor. His jaw gently clenched as he watched her flirt with the taciturn wizard. Trying to suppress a surge of jealousy as Snape’s hands caressed her waist and lower back, Lucius swirled the last of his drink before swallowing it down. He set the empty glass on the bar and straightened the front of his costume before once again glancing at the woman who was like a siren to his soul, destined to lead him to his destruction if he didn’t get himself together.

Seeing the two of them left no denying the intense chemistry the couple shared. Not that he needed to see it to believe it. After all, they had both confided their attraction for the other to him. _Get used to it, Luc. He is her future._ His plan to distance himself emotionally was prudent. It would be as he had coached himself earlier: He would be a devoted Master and teach her enough to set her free. He would help them come together. It was the correct path, it was the only path.

A small voice, that was more warming to his soul than he wanted to admit, reminded him of the kiss they had just shared on the dance floor. It had been emotionally charged – and not only by him. The affection in her eyes coupled with the way she trembled in his arms when their lips touched left Lucius with no doubt – the witch had feelings for him. He just didn’t know to what extent.

Lucius’ focus was jolted away from the couple by his son’s demanding arrival.  “Dad, stop staring into space and be useful. Who’s the new Dominatrix? I need to know!”

Lucius glanced up and down at his son’s utterly ridiculous costume and smirked before responding. “What’s your rush? It’s not like you would go near her in that outfit anyway. You’ll have your chance to make your presence known.” Lucius’ gaze moved back to his submissive as he spoke.

“Thanks for being master of the obvious, Dad. Of course, I’m not approaching her tonight.” Draco rolled his eyes.

Lucius shot a disapproving glare at his son. “You will speak to me respectfully in this club, Draco.”

“Sorry, Dad. Just tell me, please! What’s her story? Is she looking for a male submissive? Please tell me she’s straight!”

Lucius couldn’t help but to indulge his son a small touch of information. He loved Draco more than anything and, since Narcissa’s death, had found himself incapable of denying the young man – at least in most things. He sighed heavily, shaking his head with bewilderment. “Really, you’re like an excitable Hufflepuff right now. Pull yourself together!”

He paused before adding, “She is currently single, and she considers herself bi-sexual. She is vastly experienced and comes highly recommended from the two main wizarding clubs on the east coast of the US. She grew up in England but moved to Massachusetts to attend the Salem Academy to further her education after leaving Hogwarts.”

Draco was chewing the inside of his upper lip and absorbing every word. When he realized his father had stopped talking, he pushed for more. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to tell me.?”

Lucius looked down his nose haughtily. “Yes, and, stop chewing on your lip. You look like a chipmunk.”

Draco let out a huff. “Hmm. Highly educated, beautiful, Dominant, bi-sexual…and she was in my year at Hogwarts.”  He sighed heavily. “Gahhh, why can’t I place her? It’s making me crazy.”

Lucius tuned out his son’s ramblings as he returned his focus to his witch, suddenly realizing he hadn’t been watching. The song had just ended, and Lucius was about to approach them when he realized Snape was leading Hermione his way. Lucius smiled lightly at his friend as they approached.

Snape was formal in his address. “Thank you, Lucius. Hello, Draco.” He turned back to Hermione and whispered, “Until we meet again, Miss Granger.” He took her hand and kissed the back softly before he turned on his black dragon hide boots and strode purposefully away.

Lucius noticed Hermione seemed to have a slight perma-grin plastered on her face. Suppressing his frustration and needing a distraction from his thoughts, he looked from Hermione to Draco. “It will be midnight soon. Are you prepared to say goodbye to 2006?” He couldn’t help but notice the peculiar look Draco was giving Hermione.

Hermione beamed. “Absolutely. While the end of 2006 has been smashing, 2007 seems to be a promising year.”

Lucius cocked a brow and smirked. “Indeed.” He could well imagine Hermione’s hopes for 2007.

“What’s up with you, Beaves? You were all serious and mopey from getting in trouble back at the table and now you’re all sunshine and daisies. Snape spike your punch or something?” 

Hermione rolled her eyes in response to Draco’s taunt. “I’m just in a good mood, Ferret.” She looked at Lucius and then back at Draco. “Your father has completely spoiled me this evening and I’m having a very good time.” Shooting a small smirk at Draco, she added, “You should try it sometime. It _is_ New Year’s Eve, after all.”

Draco shrugged, and his eyes scanned the room as he responded, “Whatever. It’s an excuse to celebrate, I guess.”  Still surveying the crowd, he asked Hermione. “You wanna have lunch sometime this week, Doll?” His gaze drifted back to her.

His invitation had taken her by surprise and she glanced at Lucius before responding, “Uh, sure, Draco.”

“Cool, I’ll owl you tomorrow,” Draco responded as he looked back towards the crowd. “I saw Miriam earlier and amazingly she was without a submissive.” He wiggled his eye brows at them. “Wish me luck!”

Hermione smiled fondly at Draco as he dashed off. She looked up at Lucius. “It’s surprising where life leads us. Don’t you think, Master?”

Lucius looked down to find Hermione gazing up at him with warmth and obvious merriment. Once again, the affection in her eyes beguiled him, putting him under her spell. He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “Yes, pet. Yes it is.”

A loud voice was projected over the crowd announcing that the countdown would commence in two minutes. As midnight loomed, the lights dimmed, and the ceiling transformed into a glass dome revealing a starry night sky. Hermione looked up to the wonderful discovery of twinkling fairy’s buzzing about above them. She couldn’t help but ponder how the elusive creatures had been lured into such a task. They made quite a beautiful presence on such a festive night.

“Come, there is a better spot for this.” Lucius took her hand and quickly pulled her through a door and into an empty room she had never seen. Answering her silent question, Lucius told her, “This is the special events room I told you about. It is rented occasionally. Most of the time it’s closed off.” He gestured to the ceiling and Hermione gasped at the magnificence. She felt liked she could reach up and grab a star.

“How?” she asked, her voice breathless.

Understanding her question, Lucius replied, “This room is not used very much and never for fetish play. Therefore, it requires less warding than the rest of the club which in turn provides a clearer view. You may not have noticed before, but complicated and excessive wards tend to leave a very slight haze. This space is free of that.” Hermione could only imagine the complicated wards that a club like this would require.

Hermione could see others entering the room in her peripheral vision but was too enthralled with the sight above her to take any notice. Trays with flutes of champagne floated about the room and Lucius fetched two as a tray happened by, handing one to Hermione. She took it and beamed up at him. “Thank you, Master. Thank you for tonight…the pampering, the dinner, coming here.”

“It’s my pleasure, Doll.” He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, tapping his glass to hers. “Happy New Year!”

Still smiling, she repeated his words. A loud “ten” was heard overhead followed by a “nine” as the countdown commenced. The crowd began to chant along, and loud whistles and claps could be heard. The room erupted into raucous cheers and yells at the stroke of midnight. A light touch tilted up her chin and soft grey eyes moved in as Lucius leaned down to kiss her. The kiss started out soft and tender. Hermione reached up and touched his face and his response was instant. He pulled her flush against his body and his kiss became more aggressive as his tongue demanded entry into her mouth. Hermione complied and melted her form into his as she responded instinctively to his Dominance. His hand stroked her bare back and then moved down to cup her bottom before giving it a pat as he pulled away.

Hermione was left breathless and her eyes fluttered open to the sound of his soft chuckle.  “Eyes up, Doll,” he said as he gestured towards the ceiling.

Hermione’s gaze followed his to see brilliant fireworks overhead. Flashes of bright colors exploded into shapes and words. “Happy New Year!” was spelled out over one section of the sky, as was “2007” in another. Hermione couldn’t help but wonder if these fireworks were WWW products; they were simply magnificent. Confetti floated throughout the room and was sticking to her skin, as black and white balloons floated up all around, bumping into them. The room had filled, and patrons started to volley some of the balloons back and forth. Everyone was talking and laughing and cheering.

She giggled at Lucius’ almost childlike amusement as he kept his eyes on the vision above. The activity of the room pulled her gaze and she froze with a jolt when she spotted Snape’s Zorro standing beside Britt dressed as a Spanish maiden. Her blood ran cold when the couple kissed, making it obvious the redhead was his date for the evening.

Soft words were whispered in her ear. “Are you ok?”

Her attention was pulled back to Lucius. Warm, and genuine concern was etched in his eyes. Hermione found herself overcome with emotion and appreciation for this wonderful man. She looked up at him gratefully. “Yes, I’m fine, Master.”

It surprised her to discover that it was the truth. She wasn’t lying – she really was ok. The practical side of her brain had finally stepped up to the plate. Yes, Snape had a date – and that _did_ bother Hermione. Yes, she was jealous of the redhead. Despite that, Hermione now _knew_ Snape had feelings for her. Their dance had proved it, his words had reinforced it. Their interlude had been nothing short of passionate perfection. Besides, she had an amazing man standing right beside her. An amazingly decent, warm, and sexy Dominant who treated her like a princess – yet could also treat her like a whore and leave her begging for more. She laughed as she looked up at him.

Lucius had seen Hermione’s reaction to Snape kissing Britt and his heart ached for her. It ached for himself as well. When she looked up at him and reassured him she was ok, however, he could see that she truly was. Her face was lit with happiness and her tinkling laughter made his chest tighten with his own contentment. Unable to resist, he snaked his arm around her bare waist and pulled her close for light kiss. “Come, pet. Your Master has needs.”

As Lucius led her through the crowd to get their coats, they noticed a small group had gathered in the main room near the stairs. There, bent over a love seat, was a bare bottom – green tights pulled to the thighs. A woman, clad in a black vinyl, skin tight, cat suit stood behind him, swatting the pale skin repeatedly with her long fur tail. A fur tail which seemed to have bits of black leather threaded throughout, leaving stripes and spots of rosy pink on the pale, quivering bottom.

“Looks like Draco found Miriam,” Lucius chided. Hermione laughed. She wanted to stay and watch, but Lucius clearly had other plans. Within a couple seconds they had their coats and were out front, Apparating to the Manor.

As soon as they were through the front door, Lucius gave her instructions while he removed his gloves, scarf, and cloak. “Two doors to the left is the Ballroom. Enter and undress completely. You may cast a warming charm if needed. Wait for me in the center of the room. There is a pillow for you to kneel on.” He walked off quickly, leaving her mind spinning with his instructions and wonderings of what was to come.

When she entered the room, her jaw fell. It was illuminated by gentle moonlight which caressed the floor through huge gothic, arched stained glass windows. The walls were smoky blue and three lit candled sconces were placed between the cathedral like windows. Two chandeliers with four tiers of glowing candles hung from the ceiling on either end of the oblong room, adding a soft flicker to the ambiance. The ceiling was domed and painted the same smoky blue, but also had soft images of white stallions pulling chariots along with other not quite discernable images. Golden gilding framed the ceiling and the chandeliers, as well as the curved walls as it draped down to meet the windows. The floor was covered by the largest Oriental rug Hermione had ever seen, its colors the same soft blues, greys, and whites as the rest of the room. The room portrayed an eerie and mystical beauty.

She spotted a pillow underneath the furthest chandelier and quickly undressed, slipping off her cloak, gloves, and costume. After kicking off her heels and undoing her mask, she padded on the soft, velvety carpeting to her destination. She slid to her knees and assumed the nadu position as she awaited his entrance.

Lucius changed from his costume into black, silk pajama bottoms. Deciding against wearing a shirt, he grabbed his wand and headed back downstairs. When he opened the door, the vision before him was far more stunning than he had imagined. She was centered under the chandelier, her submission complete in her kneeling form and downcast eyes. _Sublime_ was the word that came to mind as he paused in the doorway, compelled to drink her in hungrily. Her pale skin was gently illuminated in wispy shades of blue by shadows and dancing light from the moon’s affection as well as the candles.

Breathing deeply to maintain his composure, he slowly approached her and waved his wand. Rope cords fell lightly from the chandelier above her. He had expected her to break form and look up, however she had not only resisted but held a small smile, as though she knew she had passed a test.

 _Minx_ , he thought to himself playfully.

 “You are beautiful, Hermione. Aphrodite herself would be jealous,” he whispered. Lucius stepped close and stroked her cheek lightly as he began to circle her. When behind her, he paused and caressingly removed the pins from her hair. He slipped the head piece off and watched as her locks cascaded in long, silky waves down her back and over her breasts. He took handfuls of hair and manipulated them into a long, loose, French braid. He loved her hair down but for what he had planned, it would need to be out of the way.

“Tonight, my stunning pet, we will up the ante a notch. I promise you will be safe at all times. Do you trust me?”

“Yes, Master.”

Lucius noticed a slight wrinkle to her forehead and was certain he knew the cause. “Yes, pet. ‘Master’ is an appropriate address for this scene.” He could see a slight release of tension in her shoulders. Her desire to please was an aphrodisiac to his soul. _Yes, loose, silk pajama bottoms were the right choice,_ he mused internally as he felt his arousal swell.

“As lovely as you look, kneeling so dutifully before me, I would like you to stand with your arms naturally draped at your sides. Your gaze is to stay on the floor like the good little submissive you are.”

Hermione swayed but didn’t stumble as she moved to stand. Lucius’ hand was close and was prepared to steady her had she lost her footing. He stepped back and tilted his head as he took in her posture. “Shoulder’s back so that your delicious breasts are displayed a little more prominently. I have yet to meet a Dominant who permits a slouching submissive.”

Hermione quickly pulled her shoulders back, arching her spine in the process and giving Lucius the added benefit of a beautifully displayed bum. “Yes, like that. Perfection.” He gave her bottom a slight squeeze.

He eased around to her front and leaned in for a soft kiss before pulling one of the cords draping from the chandelier. “You will safe-word yellow for caution or red for stop if you feel the need at any point during this scene.” He wrapped the rope from her right elbow down to her palm between her thumb and index finger. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

Lucius had held a slight concern she would object to being restrained to a chandelier in Malfoy Manor. While he and Hermione had not discussed it, the evening of her capture all those years ago still tormented him and had proven to be the very night his family abandoned all facades of supporting the Dark Lord. They had turned to the light months before but were still playing the part for the purpose of espionage. Feeling the need to reassure her, he added, “The chandelier is secure and will not fall under any circumstance.”

“I trust you, Master.” Her soft, whispered response left him no choice but to lean in for another kiss. This time it started out light but her encouraging and needy moan lit a fire in him that could only be quelled by a thorough snogging.

After they came up for air, he resumed his task. With a light cough he cleared his throat of the frog that had taken residence. “Move your fingers for me. Does the rope feel tight in any way?”

Hermione did as she was instructed. “No Master, the cord feels comfortable.”

He nodded and repeated the design on her left arm. “The same?”

She exhaled lightly and responded, “Yes, Master. It feels fine.”

“Excellent,” he hissed, seemingly to himself. As he moved away he flicked his wand with a flourish and her arms were lifted above her head. He looked her up and down. “Such a vision. Close your eyes.” Hermione complied and felt the soft caress of a blindfold. She had never been blindfolded before and felt her body flush with anticipation. Lucius took a moment to ensure her arms and shoulders were in no way strained, and her circulation in no way hindered, before continuing.

Her sense of hearing became heightened and she could tell he was circling her. After a moment, he spoke slowly, his tone sultry. “Here you are, restrained for my pleasure. Your _tits_ are sheer perfection. Pert and inviting.” He drew a deep, lazy breath as though he were contemplating and then spoke dismissively, as though speaking of the weather.  “I will fuck them at some point…perhaps tonight. We shall see.” He paused behind her and whispered into her ear, his breath blowing the soft tendrils of fine, baby hairs that were loose from her braid. “Would you like that, pet? Would you like me to use your body in such a way? Fuck those delicious little apples and explode my seed all over your face? Hmmm?”

Hermione felt a flutter in her belly that caused her breath to hitch. How was it he could say such demeaning words in such a delicious way and leave her feeling so warm and heated?

“Answer me, Miss Granger,” he demanded.

Her words came out stuttered through her breathless whisper. “Ye…yes. Yes, Master.”

His voice was calm and soothing, belying his spoken words and their promise. “Hmm, a few slip ups tonight, my pet. That’s twice you didn’t answer me. Once at the club when you so blatantly tuned me out and now, when I know you were paying very close attention. Different circumstances, yet equal offences all the same.” He paused. “I regret a punishment of some sort is in order.”

She could feel him…feel the light brush of air as he slowly prowled around her. She could sense his eyes raping her with their intensity. She took a deep, heaving breath as a light shiver cascaded down her spine, leaving her skin feeling hyper-sensitive and aware.

She had yet to receive a physical punishment from this man and had no idea what to expect. Suddenly a slap swatted her bottom, causing her to yelp and push up onto her toes. Another hard swat to her other cheek, caught her less off guard.

He spoke softly but firmly. “I am a fair and just Master, Miss Granger. I do not punish harshly for simple mistakes or for first offences. Your punishment, therefore, will be lenient. Ten swats from my hand and six from my crop will suffice.”

Hermione’s jaw slackened slightly. Based on what he just classified as lenient, she prayed she was never on the receiving end of a less than lenient one. She swallowed as she mentally braced herself for what was coming.

“Let’s see. You have eight more strikes due from my hand.” He did not pause in any way. The swats came fast and hard, each one stung more than the one before. By the time his hand was finished, both her cheeks were blazing with heat. She exhaled slowly, hoping he would give her a minute of reprieve. She was mistaken. She heard it before she felt it. The crop whistled through the air and its impact caused a grunt to escape her mouth. Reflexively, she pulled in her hips and pulled down on her restraints as if to cave in and away from the bite. She took a stuttering breath and was thankful for the brief reprieve as she heard Lucius draw in a deep breath from behind her.

“Ah, no, pet. Keep your back arched. Accept your punishment and be grateful I am being light handed.”

Hermione arched her back and took another breath. It hurt, but it wasn’t _that_ bad. Her response had been involuntary, and she would work on preventing such a reaction again. After all, it was nothing compared to the cane. The second strike of the crop had a bit more bite and she let out a yelp. By the fifth strike, her eyes had begun to water and the sixth elicited a soft sob. Although, it was more a sob of relief that the punishment was over more than anything. The spankings and crop had certainly stung, and her bottom was smarting, but what was most upsetting was that the punishment had been warranted in the first place. She desperately craved forgiveness with reassuring words and a soft caress.

He did not disappoint. He stepped forward and pressed himself against her from behind, one hand snaked around to caress a breast as the other reached around her neck and held her firmly. It was a demonstrative and delicious – yet unnecessary – display of his Dominance. As if she needed a reminder of his control, as if she needed to know who was the boss, as if she needed one more reason to lose herself into the bliss of submission. It was beguiling as much as it was arousing.

He pebbled her nipple with a firm pinch as soothing, whispered words caressed her soul. The words were almost as delicious as the feel of his silk clad erection pressing against her mid back. “You’ve pleased me, Doll. You handled your punishment with grace and you are forgiven. However, it is not forgotten. The next time I will not be so lenient.” Tender and delicate lips glanced her shoulder as he pulled away from her, leaving her bereft and aching for him to take her.

Lucius stood back and admired her red bottom as he rubbed himself lightly through his pajamas. She had handled the spanking beautifully and he was desperate to fuck her, but not until he had his planned scene for the evening in place. It was a scene he had imagined long before she had even agreed to his training. However, he needed to distance himself, if only for a minute – to pull himself together.

“I’ll be back momentarily,” he said lightly before walking towards the door. He opened and closed it without exiting. Turning back towards her, he watched for her response. He had to concentrate to keep from breathing too heavily and being discovered. Lucius smiled with a sense of pride as she let out a soft exhale. Granted, her punishment had been light, but she had handled it perfectly all the same.

His eyes slid up and down her lithe, fit body. Seeing her naked form blindfolded and restrained with moonlight caressing her skin was perhaps one of the most perfect and ethereal visions he had ever beheld. He had imagined doing this to Narcissa, begged her actually, but she would not allow it. If she had, she would not have enjoyed it. Somehow it was perfect that she hadn’t been persuaded. This moment had been reserved for the perfect submissive. Narcissa would have been beautiful, no doubt, but the fact that Hermione wasn’t simply tolerating the scene, but was basking in it, made it all the more exquisite and perfect.

Realizing it had been over a minute, he made his presence known. Dropping the façade, he merely stalked towards her and spoke with affection and sincerity. “You are perfection personified, my pet.”

The dropping of her jaw proved she had not known he was in the room. Once in front of her, he pulled off her mask and kissed her tenderly, eliciting a soft moan that was almost a purr. Based on what Lucius knew of this witch – not only from his dealings, but from what Draco and Snape had told him as well – he knew she would respond favorably to praise and reassurance. After all, all submissive beings sought approval and Lucius felt this was especially true of Hermione. He held no doubt she would put as much effort into this part of her life as she did her professional if she were simply encouraged and praised as she rightly deserved. He may only have her for a short while, but he would enjoy her to full capacity. He would train her through praise and reassurance, ensuring she was the perfect submissive she strived to be.

After a moment’s pause, he rethought his plan for the scene. He was concerned he might be overestimating her endurance and ability. It was too much to expect her to continue after she had just been punished. She was new to this after all. He should provide after care, take his pleasure, and put her to bed.

With a heavy sigh he gave her a reassuring smile. “Even though you have pleased me immensely, I feel it would be best to postpone what I had planned for this scene until another time. The spanking took us off track.” Hermione’s face fell in obvious disappointment. However, he felt he knew what was best and did not want to push her.

“Hermione, look at me,” he said warmly. When caramel eyes met his, he clarified, “Punishments can be a big part of this world and you handled yours very well - better than some of the more experienced submissives I have encountered. I am exceedingly pleased with your submission so far, but you are not ready for what I had planned after just being punished.

“While it was not a harsh punishment, it was your first from me and it would be irresponsible of me to push you too far too fast.” His eyes glanced down her body and when they came back to her eyes, they held a twinkle. “Besides, I would like to fuck you, but not until your bottom has been tended to. Let me untie you and we’ll make our way upstairs.”

As he reached down to pick up his wand, her soft plea gave him pause. “Permission to speak, Master?”

He cocked a brow and righted himself before her, his wand now in his hand. “Of, course. Speak, Doll.”

“Master, you told me I may make up to three requests each time I submit,” she started hesitantly.

“I did,” he responded.

Her voice was quivering with desperation. “Please, Master. Please continue with the scene as planned. I..I need it.” She looked around the large room. “This room, the ambiance, the moonlight, the occasion…you.” Her eyes glanced up and down his form with obvious desire as she continued. “You are so incredibly beautiful and Dominant and perfect.” She swallowed. “I doubt such an amazing night could happen twice. Please, finish what we started.”

 _Talk about being disarmed_. Lucius’ heart pounded madly behind his breastbone and he felt a creeping warmth in his gut not felt in many years.  Her desperation and praise coupled with pleading, beautiful amber eyes had fed the Malfoy ego. An ego that, for all its prancing and bragging swagger, actually required frequent grooming and praise. She had stroked the lion perfectly and if he had a tail it would be wagging in glorious splendor.

He reached his hand out and tenderly stroked her cheek, shaking his head lightly. “You know not what I had planned, Doll. It will be intense. It’s late, and I do not want to overwhelm you or push you too far.”

Hermione tilted her face into his palm and pressed against it, her eyes twinkling. “You do _know_ me, right? Overachieving to the point of insanity? I’m craving the intensity, Master. I’m craving the delicious intensity you so expertly deliver. Please.” Her voice trembled, and she closed her eyes as she nuzzled his palm tenderly. “Please.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To see photos that inspired the costumes and the ballroom in this chapter, find us on FB or Tumblr:
> 
> Facebook: www.facebook.com/snowand.lissa.7
> 
> Tumblr: LissaDream AND SnowBlind12


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Full BDSM scene in this chapter.

* * *

  **Chapter Eighteen **

* * *

_"I'm craving the delicious intensity you so expertly deliver. Please." Her voice trembled, and she closed her eyes as she nuzzled his palm tenderly. "Please."_

Lucius closed his eyes and took a cleansing breath, relishing the feel of her soft skin pressing into his palm. Her words were so sweet, so desperate, and so…submissive; they shot a jolt of heat through him. A jolt of heat that made a short detour in his gut before continuing to his groin where his libido screamed for acquiescence to her plea.

He stroked her cheek gently as he whispered, "I find it hard to refuse you, my sweet." After another moment of contemplation, a resigned sigh escaped his mouth. "Very well, we will continue."

He didn't miss the slight upcurve to the corners of her mouth as she whispered, "Thank you, Master. You are most generous and understanding." Her eyes never left the ground in front of her.

"Hmm, you won't always feel that way, my pet, but I am pleased to oblige you tonight."

Grounding himself, he stood tall and looked her up and down. He moved in close, assessing the roping around her forearms and wrists. He took his time, thoroughly examining her skin for rope irritation and double checking that the bindings weren't too tight. He checked her circulation, confirming the capillary refill was brisk. He took more time than was particularly necessary, finding he enjoyed standing pressed up against her and the feel of her slight anticipatory tremble and soft exhales against his chest.

His breath tickled her ear as he leaned to murmur, "How do your shoulders, arms, and hands feel? I can untie them and let you rest for a few moments."

Hermione took a steadying breath. Despite the normality of the question itself, the tone and sultry sway of his delivery had left her desperate for him to touch her. "I don't feel strained in any way, Master. I feel slightly awkward but in no way uncomfortable." Her voice was somewhat shaky as she answered,

Stepping back, he circled her once again before stopping in front of her and tilting her chin up, drawing her eyes to his. "I am going to suspend you. I will not let you fall and I will not hurt you." Her eyes betrayed no hint of fear. "You will safeword if needed. Yellow for caution and red for stop. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master."

Lucius waved his wand and a bag hovered to him from the corner of the room.

Hermione's eyes were back on the floor before her, but she could hear him rooting through the sack. He placed a black-leather, padded, four-inch wide board against her abdomen that went from between her breasts to just above her pubis. He waved his wand and murmured a sticking spell, causing the bar to adhere to her. Then, he took a two-inch wide strap of leather and wrapped it around her left thigh, murmuring the same sticking spell, causing it to stay in place. The same action was repeated on her right thigh, leaving her standing with black leather straps around her thighs and a padded board attached to her trunk.

Lucius stood back. "You look quite beautiful in black leather." He shook his head lightly as he stepped towards her and gently pulled her bottom lip from her teeth's grasp. "I have tools for that, you know," he whispered.

Hermione's eyes shot up to find him grinning at her roguishly. His teasing smile sent goosebumps down her arms. _Merlin, he's sexy_. The way he was looking at her with his hair down, his skin flushed, the toned planes and lines of his shoulders and torso rippling with movement, a happy trail of pale hair descending from his navel and disappearing under his pajamas…it all culminated in his God-given sex appeal. She had no doubt she was the luckiest witch in the world at this moment.

"Because this is our first suspension scene, this board will be used to offer you some support. I will explain more as we go. Eventually, I will suspend you with only ropes, but tonight is an introduction." Reaching into his bag, he pulled out two smaller black leather straps and kneeled before her, wrapping them around her calves.

Tracing his hands up her legs and past her thighs, he slowly slithered up her body to stand. His right hand paused at her inner thighs. "I wonder if I'll find you wet for me…hmm?" Lucius sniffed loudly. "I believe I will."

Hermione let out a small gasp as she felt long fingers move along her folds and then glide into her, pistoning in and out. "Ahh, such a good girl. Wet for her Master." Pulling his hand away, he moved his fingers to her lips and commanded, "Open." Hermione obligingly dropped her jaw to find fingers dripping with her own arousal pressed onto her tongue. "Suck them clean."

An eyebrow cocked as he watched her meticulously suck and fondle his fingers with her exquisite tongue. She was even keeping her gaze on the floor before him. Lucius had not instructed her to keep her eyes downcast while she was restrained, but found he was pleased by her natural inclination to do so. The time would come when she would not be allowed to look at him without his permission. This would happen later in her training, however, when he would assume the role of a more distant and strict Dominant during their sessions.

Pulling his fingers back from her, he stroked her head lightly and continued with his explanation. His voice maintained a calming and reassuring tone. "The board and the leather straps attached to your inviting thighs have loops which I will thread the roping through.

"You are going to be so stunning suspended…hanging powerless and all trussed up for my visual and physical pleasure," he whispered while resting his cheek against her temple.

Grabbing a dangling rope, Lucius threaded it through a loop and continued to do the same with the other loops and ropes. A wave of his wand and four more ropes fell from the chandelier. He attached one to each of the straps on her legs.

He studied her for a brief moment. "You will safeword, Miss Granger if at any point this becomes too much, too uncomfortable, or if you feel unsafe in anyway. Do you understand?" It was said sternly.

"Yes, Master."

With a wave of his wand, Hermione felt herself lifted off the ground and tilted forward so that her trunk, and the board supporting her, were parallel to the ground. She estimated she was about four feet up. Another flick of his wand and her legs were pulled up behind her so that she was suspended perfectly straight. Lucius grabbed her right calf and bent it back so that her foot was very close to her bum. Another flick of his wand and the strap from her right thigh became attached to the calf strap. As he performed the same action with her left leg, Hermione found herself trembling with nerves and excitement even though she felt safe and secure. Her calves were tied back onto her thighs but not so tightly as to be uncomfortable; she had a little give. The roping held her legs' weight easily. Her hands remained in the same restraints as earlier and were gently suspended out to her sides.

Lucius gave her shoulder a slight push and her body began to lightly swing. Her eyes remained focused on the moving floor beneath her and she found she was grateful for the board supporting her weight. She knew Lucius only provided it for her comfort – as it was entirely unnecessary given his expertise and experience – but she also knew he wanted her to feel assured of her safety. She felt more than secure. Hermione actually felt rather depraved and divine with her arms out and slightly above her, her legs spread in a V leaving her exposed and completely vulnerable.

She didn't fail to notice that, just like the strappado position from Friday night, Lucius had her positioned in a way that granted him full access to any orifice of his choosing. She was already figuring out the man had a method for his pleasure and she was happy to be its vessel. As her body continued to sway, she felt as though she were flying. For the first time in her life she didn't object to the sensation. She had to prevent herself from snorting when Peter Pan's "I Can Fly!" began to reverberate through her brain. She would blame that one on Draco.

Lucius stood back and admired the view. "Well, don't you look lovely?" He looked up at the plethora of ropes hanging from the chandelier and ending attached to the board and straps on her tasty little body. Seeing a beautiful woman suspended and at his mercy was a favorite pastime. However, seeing this _particular_ witch was practically more than a mere mortal wizard could take. It was a shame photographs were a hard limit for her. What he would give to be able to gaze at this moment for eternity.

Unable to wait another moment, Lucius flicked his wand and the suspension lowered her closer to the ground so that her face was lined up with his groin. "Perfect," he cooed as he slipped down the silk material of his bottoms, letting his cock spring free in front of her. "How about you show appropriate appreciation of your Master's hard work."

Unable to move except for her mouth, Hermione opened wide and looked up at Lucius to find his eyes hungry and his purple-headed cock at her lips with raging need. He slipped into her mouth and held the back of her head as he gently began to thrust.

Hermione tried to relax her throat to take him deep but found herself gagging from his size. Lucius grabbed her hair and pulled her head back roughly to allow her a large, gasping breath before he pushed her back down and slipped his shaft into her volcanic mouth once again. "Yessss. Suck my cock just like that."

While he was not being overly rough, he wasn't being particularly gentle either and Hermione could feel the moisture accumulating between her legs. She relished in her lack of control and his pure Domination. She worked him with her tongue and bobbed her head up and down his large shaft as best she could but found it awkward given her position. As though he could hear her thoughts, he whispered, "Such a good little cock-sucker. You are doing very well." She took him deep and found herself gagging again.

"I like it when you gag on my cock, Doll. However, with practice this will become much easier." He stroked her head as he smiled leeringly down at her. "Trust me when I tell you, you will be getting lots of practice." He continued to lightly hold her head as he gently thrust in and out of her enticing mouth. His eyes darkened as he watched her struggle to accommodate his size. He could see the outline of his large cock as it pushed against her cheeks and into the beginning of her throat. Her eyes grew wide and she gagged as he pushed a little further before once again pulling her back by the hair. This time he allowed three gasps of air before guiding himself into her mouth once again. He couldn't deny this side of himself, the part of him that enjoyed a little torture for his pleasure. It was something she would learn about him. He had a dark side, albeit controlled and tempered, but dark all the same. Resignedly, he pulled away, realizing it was time to give her novice mouth a rest.

Just as Hermione's jaw was starting to grow tired and her lungs felt they could take no more, Lucius pulled back and stepped away from her. He didn't say anything, but she could hear him going through his bag again. She could see each hand held something and then everything went dark as he blindfolded her for the second time that evening.

"Open wide," he whispered. Hermione opened her mouth in anticipation of his cock but was surprised when it was something else entirely. It was rubber and round. It wasn't very large; it felt like the size of a large marble as it slipped between her waiting lips. She heard a low whisper and the ball began to enlarge in her mouth. It became much bigger, stopping just when it was about to become uncomfortable. It then decreased slightly in size before she felt a strap fastened around the back of her head. "This is a ball gag, my pet. Something to prevent you from chewing on that luscious lip you are so prone to abuse."

Lucius paced slowly before her, his eyes roving her naked, suspended body. "You look so delectable right now. Bound, strung up, blindfolded, gagged, and – most of all – at my mercy." She could hear him moving around her and then felt something soft in her hand. "I have just placed a scarf in your hand and it is fastened to your wrist. If at any point you wish to safeword, you simply drop the scarf and it will hang from your wrist like a flag, alerting me to stop. "Go ahead and practice." Hermione opened her hand and let the cloth fall from her grasp. "Perfect." She felt him tuck the scrap of fabric into her grasp again.

"Let's see how you're doing." Hermione felt a light brush against her folds. If he had allowed her to speak, she could have answered him easily. She knew she was dripping wet. His brutish, almost-abuse of her mouth had left her gushing like Mount Vesuvius. "Oh, Miss Granger. You certainly like this. Nice and juicy for me."

Suddenly, her legs were thrust apart. She let out a muffled groan as he slid into her and her pussy clenched him with need, practically sucking him in. He moved slowly at first, leaving her to relish each glorious inch of his invading cock. She internally smiled when she heard him let out a guttural groan as he pulled out and thrust back in quickly. His hands gripped her hip bones as he began a vigorous pace. It was almost painful as he pounded into her, hitting her cervix over and over again. She couldn't help the muffled and almost silenced grunts that matched his pace. The ball gag served not only to leave her speechless, but to muffle the moans that she knew would have otherwise left her sounding like a two-knut whore. She could feel saliva accumulating in her mouth, the gag making it hard to swallow. So lost in her own pleasure, she found she didn't care as she began to drool around the rubber ball.

Being completely suspended, her body continually swayed in short jerks as his grip kept her from moving too much. When Hermione felt him reach under her and begin to masturbate her clit, she knew it wouldn't take long. Not being able to speak, she immediately tried her best to suppress her impending release for fear of his displeasure. She knew better than to come without permission, especially during a scene. Knowing that if he kept touching her like that she would be lost, she attempted to arch her back and pull away. The board charmed to her torso made it impossible. She tried to close her legs to no avail as the ropes didn't have a lot of give. His fingers continued to tap dance on her clit and her muffled moans became more frantic as she knew she was mere seconds away. Trying to distract herself she began to mentally rattle off the process of brewing Polyjuice Potion. _Add three measures of knotgrass…wait no…flux..._

Lucius knew she was close and he could tell she was fighting it. Hermione's struggle to arch her back and close her legs to deny him access to her delectable cunt had left him amused and rather…touched. He had not instructed her _not_ to come but being who she was – with her desperate strive for perfection – he should have predicted she would stick to one of the most common rules in D/s scening. Never come without permission. Feeling his own release upon him, his grunting voice demanded, "Come, pet. Come all over me. I want your juices in a puddle on the floor beneath you."

A couple more pinches of her clit and Hermione felt her body tense before waves of release rolled through her womb. Her pussy twitched with convulsive pulses as her head fell forward and her body went limp in its bindings. Her mind felt hazy as she was vaguely aware of him continuing to pound in and out of her. Her head was yanked back up as Lucius grasped her braid and pulled. The pain was jarring and yet somehow arousing, despite her exhaustion. "Not yet, Doll. You've got another in you. Give it to your Master."

Her mind was swimming as she fought his command. It wasn't possible. There was no way she could come again! Yes, she had done it before, but this time was different. She was spent. Panic began to set in as she feared his displeasure. His fingers were mercilessly back at her clit and she felt the little nub scream from the unwelcome continued stimulation to its over-sensitized state. She felt her eyes begin to sting with the threat of tears as he continued to rub, pinch, and flick. Somehow, _somehow,_ she began to feel flickers of pleasure as her womb began to slowly coil a second time. She threw her head from side to side, denying the possibility.

His voice was demanding and lordly as he rejected her non-verbal protest. "Don't shake your head at me, Miss Granger! You can do it. You _will_ do it, or you will suffer my displeasure." He continued to pound and fondle her clit. Sweat was beginning to form on his brow as he set a punishing rhythm to his thrusts.

Hermione forced herself to stop fighting it and tried to let herself relax into his fingers' ministrations. She was determined to please him. He wanted her to come again, she had better figure out how to do just that. The discomfort to her nub slowly gave way to pleasure and she could feel the coil continue to tighten as she replayed his delicious Dominant reprimand over and over in her head. _You can do it. You_ will _do it, or you will suffer my displeasure. Fuck, that's hot. Suffer his displeasure – I won't. I will please him. I can._

Determination took over and she began to moan and grunt as desire and need slowly continued to build a second time. His hand began to move faster, and she abruptly wished she was free of her bindings so that she could move her hips more freely and facilitate her own release _. Pinch, rub, flick. Pinch, rub, flick._ It was pleasure through torture at its finest, and within a couple minutes she was so close. She held her breath and clenched down on her Kegels, desperately willing her release to come.

Suddenly a hard slap landed on her right bum cheek. "Come, slut. Come NOW!" She screamed around the rubber ball in her mouth as the coil sprung free, his dirty words just what she needed to be pushed over the edge. They facilitated the quake in her body that had to be a ten on the Richter scale. The tsunami left in its wake released wave after monster wave of wonderful release. She was overcome by flashes of light behind her mask as he stilled and let out his own yell.

"Gods, witch…! Yesssss…!" His breathing was loud and ragged, and his words came out choked with his own exhaustion as he collapsed over her. "Fuck, yesssss. Goddess of _mere_ mortals, you're amazing!"

Hermione's heart was pounding as she continued to come down from her second, torrid release. His words of praise did not go unnoticed and this time it was the lion within _her_ that was basking in the glorious praise of her Master.

* * *

The whip struck the naked witch with meticulous precision, leaving a bright red welt on her right shoulder blade. "I have so many ways to bend you to my will, this is merely a tiny part of my arsenal." He gazed down her body, shackled to the stone cellar wall, noticing the delightful way her body flinched and writhed with each strike as gasping sobs escaping her mouth. He tilted his head, imagining the strike of the next hit, planning its depth and intensity. The end-product he had envisioned was a complex, weave design which would extend from just below her neck and cover her entire back to the swell of her buttocks. It would be stunning when he was finished. When the next hit struck, with the exact precision he had imagined, his cock swelled with excitement. The witch, however, yelled in agony. "Ple…p..lease, st..stop. I..I swear I d…don't kn…know anything."

"Ahh, but you are lying. I know it – and more importantly – the Dark Lord knows it. By all means, keep it to yourself. I find I'm quite entertained." He leered at the witch and shook his head in disgust as he saw the flow of urine running down those dirty, trembling legs. "Filthy little Mudblood," he chided as he once again struck her.

He wondered if she was wet with arousal. Could she be that twisted? Could she be like him? With a wave of his wand, and a whispered " _Evanesco,_ " the urine was vanished, along with layers of filth and muck from her time in captivity.

"See? All clean now. Am I not merciful?" He watched her briefly and shook his head in condescending disapproval. "Tsk, tsk. Not even a thank you? You Mudbloods have no manners at all."

"Th..thank y…you," she choked out.

"Ah, at least you seem to have the capability to learn. It is my understanding there are a _few_ of you out there who _do seem_ to exhibit a modicum of intelligence," he chuckled, "but let's face it. There's really only one thing your kind are any good for." Stepping up behind her, his hand reached to fondle between her legs. This action elicited a startled jolt and another sob from his victim. Pulling his hand back to find it bone dry left him with a confused look. He paused in his actions to look at her curiously from behind – as though she were not to be understood. As if she were an enigma. He reached down and found his own arousal intact and growing. He unzipped his trousers and released the strained appendage. He gave it a stroke as he once again contemplated his next strike.

"I'll get you there, witch. I'll get you there." He unleashed another precision strike, this one leaving a long line vertically down her back, ending perfectly at the slight dip marking the start of the delicious little crack of her arse. He once again stroked himself as he began to pace, staring at the witch's back. "I can teach you to like this…I can train your lovely little body to deign to please above everything else." His eyes roved hungrily down her form and back up. "Simply tell me what we need to know, and I'll train you. I'll make it good."

A sobbing response met his ears, but sobbing witches were not always unhappy witches. No one knew this more than him. He stepped up behind her, breathing in her scrumptious scent. Curls tickled his nose as he leaned in and kissed the cords of her neck. He moved his hardness against her petite frame, but she screamed in pain as his erection rubbed the newest, raw welt on her back. He couldn't help but wonder why was she resisting. Reaching around, he took a handful of luscious breast and kneaded it thoroughly.

"There you go my little whore. If my whip won't work, perhaps my cock will." He reached between her legs and rubbed dry tissue where there should have been a dripping heat.

"You confuse me, witch. Perhaps this game isn't for you." He reached up, releasing her hands from the shackles holding her wrists, a flick of his wand and the ankles were freed as well. She fell back into his arms, weak and frail. His words were whispered and urgent as he held her.

"I won't fail you, I can train you. I can make you happy. I can love you. Please…" He tilted her face to the side, wanting to see her. Wanting to see this beauty who was pretending she didn't like his whip. This beauty who was refusing the Dark Lord for the love of his punishment. This lost soul who came to him, needing him, wanting him to take care of her.

Gazing down at her profile, a sense of urgency struck him as he realized her eyes were closed, her chest was still, and her skin was ghostly pale. Lucius' hand moved along her torso, to her breast, and then to her face as he leaned to kiss her cold, blue lips. Pulling back, he found blood red fingerprints marring her beautiful face. In a panic he looked down. The stab wounds to her abdomen were deep and scattered and made a thrill of fear bloom through his entire being. "Oh..no…! Pet, no…wake up… Doll…wake up!"

Lucius sat straight up in bed, cold sweat peppered his face while his chest heaved with each breath _. A dream. It was only a dream._ He looked to his right to find Hermione naked and her perfect and trusting little body wrapped in the sheets. One breast spilled out, nipple deliciously pebbled from the cool air. He climbed out of bed, grabbing his wand, and walked to the mantle. A flick of his wrist and the fire roared into existence.

Both hands gripped the mantle for dear life as the memory of the dream consumed him. The memory of the prisoner – his prisoner – that he was only too happy to whip and torture. He concentrated, trying to remember more as the dream slowly slid out of his focus and memory. The prisoner had then become a submissive, his submissive, someone he was to train. Beautiful and in pain as his whip struck her.

Lucius collapsed to his haunches before the fire as the end of the dream came into focus. Not a submissive, not for play. A prisoner he had abused. A prisoner he had beat. A prisoner he desired. A prisoner who was dead. Hermione. He had killed his prisoner. He had killed Hermione.

Lucius abruptly stood and looked back at the sleeping witch, only to find she was sleeping no more. Beautiful in the flickering firelight, she was sitting up with her small hand clutching the sheet to her chest. Her breast was still exposed, and now a silky thigh was free of the offensive, vision obscuring fabric. She wore a worried look on her face, and a soft whisper from her lips caused a shudder to run through him. A shudder of guilt. A shudder from what he might have done. He had never killed as a Death Eater, but did that make him any less guilty?

The memory of _that_ night came into his thoughts once again. The night she could have died. The night his psychotic sister-in-law cut into _his_ witch's arm. _This_ witch's arm. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew where this dream had come from. In the ballroom… He had been so concerned about not upsetting her. He had been so focused on not scaring _her_ by bringing back the horrible memory of that night, that he hadn't considered himself in that equation. He hadn't contemplated what it might do to him.

Lucius continued to stare at her – although he was not really seeing her – as all these thoughts tumbled through his mind like an avalanche. A soft voice pulled him to the here and now. "Lucius? Lucius…" He pulled deep lungsful of air, trying to force himself to focus as he watched her slip out of bed and dash towards him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she exclaimed urgently, "Lucius…are you ok? What's wrong? You look…haunted. Has something happened?"

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply again. Her sweet scent grounded him as his arms wrapped around her tightly. "Oh, Hermione. I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry…about _that_ night. That God-awful night that you could have died. I did nothing to save you…I should have…I should have…."

Soft caramel eyes looked up at him beseechingly, surprised by this unexpected apology. Where in the world was this coming from? "Shh, Lucius. Shh now. It's all right. I knew you couldn't help me then. I knew you needed to protect Harry first and foremost and that your focus was on the cellar where the boys were. I wouldn't have wanted you to save me over him. I would have been furious if you had saved me and it had cost us Harry. It's okay. It all worked out – and I'm okay. I never blamed you – any of you. Not you, not Narcissa, not Draco. You did the best you could."

His eyes never left hers as his heart rate slowed to only a mild tachycardia. He looked at her like she was water and he was the desert. "Merlin, you are beautiful. I just want to drink you in."

Her eyes were wide, probably confused by everything that had just transpired. She had woken to discover him across the room, naked and staring at her like a mad man. And what had she done? Had she looked away and avoided his touch of madness? Not this witch. She ran towards him, holding him, reassuring him, and comforting him.

Unable to resist her for another moment, he leaned down and kissed her tenderly, and then not so tenderly as an instant and desperate need to be inside her consumed him. He swooped her into his arms and carried her bridal style back to his bed.

Lucius found the feel of her in his arms helped ground him fully. This woman, who had had enough trust in him to sleep so soundly in his bed and held enough compassion in her heart to soothe him after a nightmare. A young woman who made him feel like a young man again, as evident by how hard he was growing at the feel of her nakedness against his. A woman who had rekindled a fire deep in his gut and reminded him what affection and respect and kindness felt like. A woman who was currently _his_.

He rested her back against the pillows and motioned her to move to the center of the bed, focused on her but also lost in the thoughts whirring through his mind. _Why not take advantage of your situation, old man? Embrace your Slytherin heritage and give her all of you. Maybe when all this is over, she'll choose you. Show her how it could be to be yours. Don't fight obviously, but don't sit back and let him have her without trying to keep her. The decision is hers, in the end, but why not make her realize she_ has _a choice?_

As those thoughts swirled in his head, an incredible feeling of guilt tickled the back of his mind. Severus wanted her. Severus had even suggested he might marry her and have children one day. Severus Snape! A wife? Children? The blasted miserable sod deserved some happiness…perhaps more than anyone else Lucius knew. Lucius couldn't, in good conscience, pursue her when the falling out between the two of them had been over a ridiculous misunderstanding.

No, he would do as he promised. If Snape screwed up again, though? All promises would have been met and this divine angel will be fair game. Lucius would not hold back again; the gloves would be off, and he was prepared to fight dirty.

Before he even consciously made up his mind about all the questions and thoughts he had, he was brushing riotous curls out of Hermione's face and leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down her jaw and neck. A whimper of need sounded delightfully in the back of her throat, and her eyelashes fluttered as she leaned into his kiss. Lucius didn't give her time to register what was happening fully before he rolled over her and settled himself between her thighs.

He did not enter her, not yet. Lucius wanted her fully aware of what she did to him. He wanted her completely cognizant of what he felt was happening between them. This little witch had brought so much passion and need back into his life that she was starring in his dreams – even if those dreams had been nightmares.

"Lucius?" she murmured before letting out a shaky sigh of pleasure as his mouth closed around a nipple, making it swell and peak. She groaned when he pulled at it more insistently, her hips rolling. "Oh, Circe," she keened softly.

He couldn't help a small chuckle at her sweet sounds of ecstasy as he slid fingers down, down between her legs to find her quim wet with their combined juices from earlier in the evening. He delved between her folds, slipping two fingers up and inside her gently. "Oh, yes…" she hissed in her sleep roughened voice.

"Does that feel good, pet?" he whispered, smirking when she only mewled in response. "Yes, I see that it does," he continued in a smooth cadence. "You're such a dirty little girl. Here you are all slick with my seed, sleeping in my bed like a good little slave. I wake you from a sound sleep and your only wish is to please me – make me feel better. Then I bombard you with my lust and you respond so…deliciously." Her breathing hitched, and he could see the gleam of her eyes flickering with the fire from the brazier. Nothing was said in response to his words. One hand still stroking her hot little cunt, he crept the other to his pillow for the wand he had tossed on top of it as he continued to rumble, "You did so wonderfully tonight, Doll. Seeing you strung from my ceiling, trapped for my pleasure? That pleased me greatly. Raise your arms above your head, love."

Hermione whimpered, complying immediately, and he grinned as his fingers closed around his wand. " _Evinctus_ ," he murmured, pointing it at the squirming woman's hands. He heard her gasp and low moan as her arms were pulled tightly into bindings at her wrists and secured to the headboard.

"Mmm," he breathed. Leaving his wand back on his pillow, he bent his head to suckle at her neck, pulling the tender flesh and laving it with his tongue. She wriggled and made soft noises in her throat while pulling at the bindings. "Now you're trapped," he sank his teeth into the fleshy part of her body where her neck met her shoulder. Hermione gave a little shriek as she reflexively jerked away from the pain. Having mercy on her, Lucius soothed the bite with his hot, wet tongue before continuing to nip and suck across her chest. "Tell me, Doll, would you try to run if I released you?"

Her answer was breathless and immediate. "No!" she panted.

"No?" Lucius asked, feigning surprise. He was to the base of her sternum now and her torso rolled as she pressed her sex into his hand. Silently begging him to move faster, sink his fingers deeper.

"No, I would not run, sir! I love how you make me feel," she groaned with her pent up sexual frustration as he dipped his tongue in her navel. His free hand squeezed and pinched one of her breasts as he continued his descent.

He slid his fingers out of her slick warmth and she verbally protested the loss but stilled when she felt the heat of his breath fan over her mons. "Oh, please!" she begged, lifting her hips in attempts to make contact with his mouth.

"Please what, Miss Granger?"

"Please put your mouth on me, sir!"

"I've had my mouth on you, Miss Granger, but I can do that again," he murmured. "Do you want it here?" he lapped at the sensitive inside of one creamy thigh causing a low groan. "Or maybe here?" Raising himself a bit, he nipped at one hip bone and she squealed and hissed with the painful pleasure of the bite. "You'll have to be more specific," he teased, returning to hover over her quim.

Hermione was a bundle of tension, the next time he touched her, she would explode into a million pieces within a minute. Lucius would have put money on it.

"Please put your mouth on my pussy, sir!" He gave her a leer she most likely couldn't see and continued to torment her with his breath so close to where she wanted him.

"Now why would you want my mouth there, you wicked witch?"

"Oh, fucking hell!" she whimpered. "Master, please put your mouth on my pussy. Suck on my clit! Make me come! Please, please, _please_ make me come, sir!"

He snickered loud enough for her to hear before complying. Holding her hips firmly still with both hands, he slowly stroked her from her vaginal opening to her clit and back a few times, listening to her curse and breathe out little sobs above him. She tasted of him, which made a fierce possessiveness claw up his insides. Her body was positively vibrating beneath his ministration.

Lucius felt it as she pulled her legs back as far as she could, trying to give him better access by tilting her pelvic bone. She gasped when he finally latched onto and started suckling her clit. He brought one hand off her hips to run his fingers through the excitement that was pouring out of her. Carefully, slowly, he curled and slipped three long fingers into her heat, pushing up to stimulate her g-spot. This made her release a stream of expletives as she was forcibly shoved off the metaphorical cliff that was her orgasm.

He continued to pump her with his fingers as she shouted. It was an unearthly sound, and she jerked under him hard before falling into mutters of "Oh, god. Oh, _god_. _Oh, god!_ " under her breath. Once again, she was praising the deity due to his ministrations.

"Lucius, Lucius," she breathed as she started to come down, her body sinking limply into the mattress. "Oh, my gods, so good." Lucius couldn't help the prideful smirk that he knew was plastered stupidly on his face. _That's right, Hermione. Sing your praises to the gods, but don't forget to whom you belong._

" _Solvo_ ," he muttered, wandlessly releasing her tied wrists as he slowly climbed back up her body. He silenced Hermione's praises by covering her mouth with his, sharing with her the taste of herself as he settled himself over the top of her. Her arms wrapped around him and she let her fingers dive into the silky strands of his hair as she pulled him closer, relishing his weight.

He deepened the kiss until it was almost bruising in nature while aligning himself with her pussy and sinking into her slowly. She hummed into his mouth as breath hissed out of his nose at the heady sensation that was their bodies joining.

Hermione's legs automatically came up to wrap around his waist even as her brain finally returned from the rapture of her orgasm. She was heated through – fully satisfied, yet ready for more. She was surprised Lucius had untied her, but his penetrating kisses didn't allow the thought to linger. As he pulled back and surged into her a second time, she swallowed his groan of pleasure.

When Lucius moved again, she had to tear her mouth away to suck in much needed air. "God, Hermione, you feel so bloody amazing," he breathed into her neck as his arms slipped underneath her shoulders to pull her even closer to him. His fingers wound into her hair as he paused in his strokes to adjust himself on his knees, tilting her pelvis up by the shifting of his own. They were so wrapped around each other the only parts they could move were their hips, which mated again and again as he rained kisses over her face and she sucked on his neck and shoulders.

Hermione rolled her lower body, meeting each snap of his hips with her own thrust. Lucius' fingers tangled into her curls and he pulled her head back painfully, allowing himself access to the graceful arch of her neck. The pace was slower than any other time he had taken her, but he seemed in no rush. She focused on the feel of his thickness, the friction of their bodies. Every few thrusts the angle would catch her clit just right and she'd whimper. He returned to her mouth to seek out her tongue again and she sighed into him, loving the almost lazy way he was moving within her.

Lucius built the tension within her slowly, seeming to hold off his own completion with no effort. Fleetingly, Hermione wondered how long they had been moving together, but the thought never fully registered as the tell-tale fluttering's started deep in her womb. "I'm going to come." She whispered it, asking permission without actually asking permission.

He didn't answer, just sealed his lips over hers again, nibbling and suckling at her lower lip. Seeking out her tongue to graze his teeth over it lightly. Pulling her upper lip between his. Lucius increased his pace just a bit, snapping at the end of each thrust, which caused Hermione to whimper and let out little broken yips around his heated snogging.

When she fell apart, she threw her head back gasping his name and sinking her nails into his shoulders. It was a slow unfurling. It seemingly started in the very center of her being before flowing through her heatedly, but gently. Like the caress of almost-too-hot water cascading over her skin. Lucius' arms tightened around her as she came, and he stiffened above her; his own orgasm crashing down as she milked him of his seed.

When their breathing calmed enough, and her legs slipped down to settle on the mattress, Lucius returned his mouth to Hermione's. She accepted the sweet, slow kisses with as much ardor and enthusiasm as he was showing. Body trembling, she slid her arms from his shoulders and lifted her hands to cup his face. Holding him gently between her palms, her fingers traced the shape of his jaw, feeling the stubble from the day before.

They kissed and caressed each other for a long time, neither speaking. Both were too afraid that words would break the spell they were under. It was with great reluctance, and only when Hermione pulled away to let out a little yawn, that Lucius untangled himself from her. He rolled onto his side and pulled her in against him, curving the front of his body along her back so her bum rested firmly against his groin. He slung an arm around her waist and snuck a thigh between her hips to curl with her legs. He smiled against her hair when she tangled her fingers with his and pulled their hands to rest between her breasts. They were both sleeping within moments.

* * *

Hermione's eyes fluttered a few hours later. She was confused for a moment before she registered Lucius' heavy arm draped across her midsection. Opening her eyes fully, she could see faint light peeking in from around the heavy drapes that covered the window. It took another moment to realize the reason she had awoke. She needed to pee.

Carefully, she slipped out from underneath the muscular arm of the man she had just spent the best New Year celebration of her life with. Once her feet were on the floor, she turned back to look at him and found her breath catching. Lucius Malfoy was really a handsome man. Sure, he was twenty-five years her senior, but that was really nothing in the Wizarding world. His regal appearance would most likely keep him looking beautiful and powerful even if he lived to be a hundred and fifty years old.

Gaze traveling down the hard planes of his body, Hermione took in his musculature. He was hard in all the right places. Even if he wasn't as well defined as Snape, he was very fit for a man of his age. Well, in all actuality, he was quite fit for a man of _any_ age. She returned her eyes to his face, which was peaceful in his sleep. This made him look years younger, and Hermione could see Draco in him explicitly.

She pulled herself up to stand and padded quietly across the room before slipping into the bathroom and closing the door with the softest of clicks behind her. As she went about her morning ablutions, her mind returned to the confusing – yet powerful – lovemaking session they had in the wee hours of the morning.

Lovemaking.

It had been too tender not to be called lovemaking.

It had been too full of emotion not to be called lovemaking.

Hermione felt herself rather torn about how this made her feel. She looked at herself long and hard in the gilded mirror that hung above one of the two sinks in the bathroom before starting to brush her teeth.

On one hand – she felt possessive of Lucius and she couldn't deny she was coming to care about him more deeply than she had anticipated. They had gone into this arrangement with a mutual understanding. They were both having their needs met – he was teaching her to be a sexual submissive, all the while sating his own needs of being a sexual Dominant. She hadn't counted on the monumental affection that was growing within her for this man.

As she continued to take in her reflection, she tried to make heads or tails of the conundrum that was Lucius Malfoy. They were engaged in a heady sexual relationship that was set to last for at least the next three to four months per their contractual agreement. Because of this, she didn't see their emotional connection fading.

As she brushed her teeth, she couldn't fault herself for growing so fond of the wizard. He was an exceptional man, a great friend, and the perfect Dominant. She knew with absolute clarity she had a friend for life in Lucius. The realization made her feel very warm and somehow _protected_. He was safe. A safe place to put her fears and desires. Someone she could trust explicitly with questions and concerns. She hoped that wouldn't change when she was no longer his submissive.

It pained her to admit this, but certainly their dynamic would change somewhat when their contract ended. How could it not? However, she held no doubt they would remain friends. She imagined he had been every bit as attentive and wonderful with his other past training submissives. While finishing brushing her teeth and tongue, she couldn't help but wonder if he maintained friendships with them. She spat forcefully into the sink and used her hands to cup water to rinse her mouth, mulling over how she thought about Lucius being friends with his past submissives. Jealousy was the only thing that came to mind. She quickly pushed that notion away.

As she began to floss, a small niggling thought poked her, leaving her feeling uneasy _. What if you're wrong? What if he has actual romantic feelings and inclinations for you? That was lovemaking last night!_

She internally shook her head. No, Lucius was fully aware of the situation with Snape, and certainly the man would tell her if he had feelings for her. _Right?_ Lovemaking between friends – that's all it had been. It was true she felt somewhat possessive of Lucius – and yes – she possibly had developing romantic sentiments towards the man. Yes, those feelings seemed to go beyond their contractual agreement. This was only on her end, though. It _had_ to be just on her end. She would just have to keep a level head when it came to Lucius. She couldn't let herself become too emotionally attached.

The truth was, there was a damn good chance Snape would break her heart, it wouldn't do for Lucius to break it as well.

Hermione exhaled a slow breath. She was fully aware she was more than a little obsessed with Severus Snape. The way the man hadn't even really tried but had somehow succeeded in setting her world on fire let her know she was in deep. Especially now that he had pulled his head out of his arse and admitted that there was a raw, animalistic charge between them.

Hermione was no fool – she understood that sexual compatibility did not necessarily mean there would be a romantic compatibility. She realized that she and Snape could try things and have them explode devastatingly in their faces. However, she knew that she would regret it for the rest of her life if she didn't see where things could go with him. She was very aware that Lucius also more than satisfied her sexual urges and fantasies – but it wasn't quite the same. There was something utterly pyrogenic about Severus Snape. She couldn't make sense of it any more than she could deny it.

There was also no denying that Lucius Malfoy had delivered to her one of the most amazing nights of her life. If things didn't work out with Snape, she would be beyond lucky to capture the heart of Lucius Malfoy. Once again, she dismissed that possibility as she felt fairly certain the wizard harbored only friendship for her.

She chuckled to herself when she imagined Draco's reaction if things between her and Lucius somehow did become more serious in the future. All that teasing about her becoming his step-mummy! Merlin, that would be beyond…weird. Not to mention potentially disruptive of a budding friendship with her childhood nemesis. She doubted Draco would be too happy if she and Lucius were to _actually_ date. She walked towards the shower, not wanting to give any more thought to the possibility. There was simply no point wasting energy thinking about something that would never be.

As she started the water, she found she could not shake the possibility from her mind, however. What if things don't go well with Snape and she somehow _did_ end up with Lucius? The last thing she wanted to do was potentially ruin (or make awkward) a deep, long-time friendship between Snape and Lucius. She had only gotten to see them interact casually on couple of occasions, but she was well aware of the connection they had. She knew that Snape had confided in Lucius about what had been happening with her. The way Lucius spoke about Snape was more brotherlike than a strong friendship. She could not come between that.

She stepped into the hot spray, groaning as the torrent from the rain head shower receptacle soothed her sore muscles and the side jets engulfed her in blissful, all-encompassing heat. She wasn't sure how long she stood in the water, continuing to let her brain whirl and spin as she tried to push thoughts of Slytherin men from her mind.

She wasn't successful, suddenly remembering (not that she had really forgotten) that she had an _actual date_ with Snape. Within the next week! She replayed their conversation and dance, lingering over the details of his touch and the sound of his voice in her ear. She had no concept of how much time was passing as she stood under the hot water and let herself daydream. It was long enough that when pale, corded arms snaked around her waist from behind she let out a little yelp of surprise.

"Good morning, witch," Lucius deep voice was husky with sleep and fell directly into her ear as he nuzzled her neck with his nose.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

* * *

** Chapter Nineteen  
**

* * *

_“Good morning, witch,” Lucius deep voice was husky with sleep and fell directly into her ear as he nuzzled her neck with his nose._

“Good morning, Lucius,” she smirked up at him over her shoulder when she felt his heavy, silk over steel erection press hotly into the small of her back. “I see you’re up and at ‘em this morning,” she continued teasingly as her eyes dropped to his prick before slowly gliding back up his body. She winked at him.

Lucius let out a bark of laughter before he tilted his face into the waterfall coming from above them. His chest rumbled with the soothing pleasure of the shower just as much as Hermione’s had a few moments earlier. “I don’t think I’ll be ready for your witty snark until I’ve had a cup of tea, Miss Granger,” he responded sardonically after soaking his hair.

“Aw,” Hermione giggled lightly. “Are you not a morning person, sir?”

The change in moniker seemed to wake Lucius fully. The next thing Hermione knew, her hands were flat against the tile wall and Lucius was using one leg to spread her feet more than hip width apart. His fingers dove into the soft, silken folds of her pussy. “Gah!” she half groaned, half squealed in complete surprise.

“I am very much a morning person, Doll.” His voice was mischievous and happy sounding and his fingers dipped down to swirl over the rosebud of her rear entrance. Hermione clenched her cheeks in automatic surprise, which made Lucius let out another deep chuckle.

“This little hole right here, Miss Granger, is _mine_. You marked it as such in your contract when you wrote ‘haven’t done before’ followed by a ‘very eager to try’.” She held her breath as she felt him toy with the swirl of flesh lovingly before gently pressing the tip of his pointer finger into the center until the ring of muscles gave way.

Hermione’s entire body wracked with a shudder and she dropped her head between her arms as she let out a long, low moan. The water that poured around them drowned out her reaction, but she knew that he knew exactly what he was doing to her. There was a nip of teeth at her lower back as the single digit slipped a little further into her tract before wiggling, making her breath stutter and hitch in her throat. Another hand slid up and around her torso before cupping under one heavy breast and pulling at the nipple until it was hard and peaked.

Hermione made to reach back for him, so she could wrap her arm around his neck and pull his mouth to hers. She was treated to his finger slipping loose from her arse and a hard crack on one slippery cheek. “Did I say you could move, witch?” he hissed, glaring. Hermione swallowed, her eyes popped wide with surprise as she immediately placed her palm back next to its twin on the stone shower wall.

“I’m sorry, Master,” she said loud enough to be heard over the rushing water. “I just wanted to touch you.”

Lucius smirked at the back of her head. He had figured it was something along those lines. He slid both palms up over the swell of her rump before skimming up her sides to cup her breasts. Taking firm hold of one in each hand, he pulled her back into him with a hard jerk, put his mouth directly over her ear, and hissed, “I am very glad you wish to touch me, Doll, but I am training you to be a sexual submissive. You have expressed interest in marrying a Dominant. If and when you do, you and he will have your own rule base. However, I can all but promise you that your Dominant husband will expect you to instantly be submissive when any sexual situation is initiated – unless you agree otherwise.”

He squeezed and rotated her nipples, his hold on her pert breasts continued to be bruising. She groaned loudly, her head lolling back onto his shoulder. “It is also what I expect, pet. If I initiate sexual activity outside of our prearranged sessions and you wish to engage with me, you will immediately submit.” Lucius’ thick thigh parted her legs from behind again, so she had to rise onto her tip toes to sit on his knee. The sensation of coarse body hair over her neatly trimmed quim made her gasp. She moaned wantonly when he scrapped his teeth from the base of her ear down the length of her neck before nibbling on her shoulder. Her breathing became erratic.

“If I wish for you to act freely, I will tell you so. Tell me you understand all I have said, my lovely.” He sunk his teeth hard into the side of her neck while simultaneously dropping a strong, opened handed _smack_ directly over one nipple with his command.

She shrieked before gasping, “I understand, sir!”

“Good girl,” he growled. “Hands back on the wall.” With no other warning, he pushed her forcefully away from him and her hands automatically came up to catch herself from slamming face first into the stone. He roughly spread her legs further apart and dropped four loud, unpleasant _cracks_ onto her arse cheeks. Taking her hips in a crushing grip in each long-fingered hand, Lucius lifted them and tilted her pelvis back before he slammed into her with one strong thrust. Hermione let out a stunned, nonsensical exclamation of surprise followed by a sob of pleasure as he set a ruthless pace. So ruthless she had to lock her elbows to keep herself from smashing into the wall in front of her

Because of how small she was, Lucius was holding her up on her tip toes while she balanced herself with her hands against the shower wall. The water flowed hotly, wrapping them in steam and heat. Spurring him on excitedly were her gasps and mewls of desire, although they could barely be heard over the water. The loud slap of his sac against her clit sent electric thrills down his spine all the same.

In the back of his mind Lucius realized he might be being a tad too rough with her. He had certainly not quite unleashed himself like this with her before. _She’s a big girl, Luc. She knows her safewords._

As quickly as he had started their mating, he pulled away. Spinning her to face him, he used his body to trap her against the cool stone, his forearm coming up to cut her air supply off at the neck. She went stock still, her mouth gaping to drag in a ragged, obstructed breath. He could feel her pulse flutter erratically for a few seconds before he released her. Continuing to use his body to intimidate, Lucius forced her to move a short distance to the long stone shelf that was counter height along one wall. He loved that she automatically kept her eyes averted as she had the night before, never making eye contact with him – something he loved in his submissives. Her instincts, for the most part, made his job easy.

Lucius had designed this bathroom very specifically when he had it redone. Hermione was the first witch he had used it with, however. The shower had many points for hand holds and the shelf was deep enough for a witch to sit on and be fucked mercilessly. There was also a magically padded corner seat where a wizard could sit comfortably with a witch straddling him, so he could take her for a pleasurable ride. _We’ll save that for a later date, my pet,_ he thought wickedly, a leer curving his expressive mouth.

Hermione gasped when he lifted her as though she weighed no more than a small child, and her bum landed on the ice-cold stone of the granite bench. “Lean back and hold on to the lip of the counter,” he commanded her gruffly. She complied without thought, feeling fuzzy and languid. The mindlessness of being forcibly controlled was exhilarating. Lucius’ handling of her this morning had been jarring, but she found herself craving the violent manner in which he was making her his.

After her slip up a few moments ago, Hermione didn’t want to give him any more cause for displeasure. She wanted him to be happy with her – she wanted him to find joy in her. She wanted him to take what he needed, violently if necessary, because his pleasure pleased her above everything else. Satisfying his desires would gratify her own, and she needed him to delight in her. She found the pain arousing; the brutality only heightened her senses. When he hooked each of her legs in the crook of his elbows and thrust back into her so hard that her head crashed into the wall behind her, she barely felt it. Instead, she arched into him, panting like a common street whore. She wanted more, she wanted him to leave marks on her skin. She wanted to look at herself in the mirror later that night and know he had been there. She wanted to know that she had caused this man to take her with such unbridled passion he hadn’t been able to think of her comfort at all.

The feel of his cock was jolting as he pounded into her cervix, grazing her g-spot with each scrumptious jerk of his hips. When she came back into focus, it was only to realize she was going to come. “Oh! Sir! I’m going to co-uunngghh!!!!” she screamed. He didn’t stop or speak, just continued to hammer through her orgasm. Another thirty seconds of beating a ruthless rhythm caused Lucius to shout his own guttural release. Collapsing against her when the last jet was forcibly jerked from his bullocks, he panted heavily into her neck. She worried for a fleeting moment that the thick, wet locks of her hair would suffocate him.

When that thought dispelled, Hermione found tears of frustration had filled her eyes; which startled her. She didn’t want him to be mad and was certain he would be for not asking permission to climax. It had just come upon her so quickly that she hadn’t had time to articulate. She bit the inside of her lips; she wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around his shoulders, cling to him, and sob her apologies. Beg for his forgiveness. Her feelings were disoriented. She had made a mistake, though. She would keep her eyes down, her chin firm, and accept whatever punishment he deemed appropriate.

However, when Lucius gently murmured praises in her ear before helping her slide off the bench, she grew confused. The feeling intensified when he pulled her under the hot spray of water and started washing her hair.

She stayed quiet, contemplating how to move forward. “Permission to speak, Master?” she murmured after he had finished rinsing soap out of her tresses.

A small grunt of surprise left him. “Lucius is fine for now, Hermione. Speak freely.” She looked up at him through her wet eyelashes, and her befuddlement deepened at his sated, pleased grin. She watched him pour a handful of conditioner into his palm before gesturing her to turn in a circle, so he could work it into her copious curls.

“Aren’t you upset with me?” Lucius’ hands stilled in her hair before continuing to rub the conditioner into her locks.

“Why ever for?” he questioned, relishing the way she leaned into his hands. She was obviously enjoying the head wash.

“I came without permission.” Her voice was flat, and he realized she was disappointed with herself.

“I never told you that you had to ask permission, Hermione.” This statement caused her to straighten stiffly.

“What?” She turned in his arms, so she could see his face.

“I never told you that you had to ask permission before coming. If I specifically want you to ask permission, I will tell you so,” he replied nonchalantly.

“But…” Hermione trailed off, racking her brain. Yes, Lucius had told her she was not allowed to come on Boxing Day through Friday night. He had told her she was not allowed climax until he gave her permission. Which is why it had been appropriate for her to ask his permission every time she was close Friday night. He was correct though – of course he was correct – he had directed all their sessions, of course he knew the instructions he had given her. He really had never told her she wasn’t allowed to come without permission.

Lucius watched her with bemused eyes. She was trying to figure out why she had thought she wasn’t allowed to come without permission. The way her eyes clouded with thought and then shifted to acceptance left him knowing she had found her answer. “I see you know I speak the truth.”

“Can you please clarify to me verbally what my expectations are regarding climaxing, sir?” Hermione asked very politely.

Lucius shook his head, a half smirk on his face. _This girl and her clarifications._ “Yes, Hermione. You are allowed to climax _any_ time you wish as long as I have _not_ told you _not_ to. Understood?”

“Understood, sir. Thank you,” she responded primly with sparkling eyes and a tiny grin. Then she plucked the shampoo off the built-in shelves and motioned for him to tip his head back. “Your turn.”

* * *

Dressing up the night before had been divine. Hermione had felt beautiful and no less pampered than a fairy tale princess but slipping on her Muggle jeans and cashmere jumper felt like home. Squeaky clean and sexually sated to the nines, Hermione could not feel any more content than at this moment. As she tied her trainers, she took another glance around her over-the-top suite. Well, over-the-top on _her_ scope of reference anyway. It was probably just another average guest suite in Malfoy Manor.

She shook her head in bewilderment at the riches the Malfoy men had grown up surrounded by. She imagined they felt rather safe and cocooned in this mansion most of their lives. Every whim catered to, and every want provided. It must have been quite disturbing and earth shattering to have that security ripped out from under them when Voldemort lived here. She could only imagine the utter horror of the megalomaniac turning what had been a taken-for-granted safe-haven into their worst nightmare. She began to understand why Draco had become the first Malfoy heir to move out of the Manor.

Hermione stood and took another glance out the balcony door at the expansive grounds. It was simply stunning country out here. Rolling hills topped with snow, forests, and a frozen lake. She assumed her room’s view only offered a small part of all that was to be beheld of the Malfoy Estate. She had heard rumors of indoor and outdoor swimming pools, a quidditch field, and a barn full of prized pedigree horses, peacocks, swans, and other animals. Now that she was really getting a look at the grandiosity of it all, she could only imagine the rumors were true. They probably actually fell short of the luxuries and amenities the estate offered.

Her attention was pulled to the door by the loud clearing of a throat. Lucius was standing tall and looking handsome in… _What? Muggle jeans?_ Hermione let out a giggle and reflexively sucked in her bottom lip. Tilting her head, she coquettishly rubbed the dip between her lip and her chin with her forefinger as she took him in with a curious expression. Faded jeans with boots and a heavy black sweater on Lucius Malfoy? _Yum!_

“I’ve been standing here for a couple minutes. You seemed to be lost in your thoughts.”

Hermione dropped her hand and walked towards him, her eyes still twinkling with mirth from his Muggle attire. “It’s easy to get lost in one’s thoughts when looking at such beauty.”

Lucius cocked an eyebrow, not knowing whether she was describing the landscape or himself. His eyes danced lazily down her petite form. “So true. Why do you think I waited a full two minutes to get your attention? I was lost in my own thoughts in the presence of such beauty.”

He reached his hand out to her. “Come, I shall escort you. Breakfast awaits.”

Hermione gave him her hand, shaking her head as he tucked it under his arm. “How do you do that? Is there a wizarding charm school I know nothing about? Perhaps for pure-bloods only or something?”

Lucius let out a sigh accompanied by a small flash of perfect teeth as he led them down the steps. “Hmm, charm school. Uh, no. No charm schools, but we did have to suffer through cotillion, which instructed us not only in dancing, but proper etiquette in a myriad of social situations.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Of course you did.” After a few more steps she asked, “And how was cotillion? Was it miserable? Or was it fun? I imagine you had fun flirting with the witches.”

Lucius grinned roguishly. “Ahh yes…The witches were…well, let’s just say cotillion was about dance lessons on the surface, but on those warm summer nights there were other lessons learned as well.” He winked at her playfully. “It was all very innocent, really. A few snogs, a few jealous spats amongst the lads fancying the same witches.” Hermione continued to look up at him, willing him to continue.

He didn’t seem to mind and kept talking as they walked into one of the smaller rooms she had seen in the Manor. It beheld a glass ceiling, which did not appear charmed, and lots of windows on two of the four walls. Despite the outdoor cold, the room was warm and sun-laden. Assorted plants and trees occupied much of the perimeter of the room yet were placed in such a way as to not block the stunning view of a large field. Horses, most of them white in color except for one smaller brown one, grazed on winter grasses. Hermione’s gaze froze when she spotted a miniature white pony grazing amongst the prize worthy stallions. Before she had a chance to enquire about the pony, Lucius guided her to a small table that was set near one of the windows. He pulled out her seat and, after sliding in her chair, took his own.

Noticing her fascination with the room, he intimated, “This is a small cellarium or sun room if you prefer. I sometimes like to break fast out here and take in the sunlight.”

Hermione continued to look around. “Yes, I can see why. It’s a lovely room.”

He followed her gaze around the space. “It was one of Narcissa’s favorites. It’s not typically used for guests, but I thought you would enjoy sitting out here.” Hermione reached out and squeezed his hand, causing the slight melancholic look on his face to fade and a broad smile to replace it. “Ah, but we were discussing cotillion, were we not?”

“Yes, and as I recall you were just getting to the good parts about the mischief you got up to on those warm summer nights.”

He gave her a teasing, reproachful look. “You can’t trick me that easily, my dear. I seem to recall only admitting to a few innocent snogs and some jealous spats amongst the young wizards.”

Hermione shook her head in mock disappointment. “Well, that just sounds terribly dull.”

Lucius’ eyes twinkled wickedly. “Perhaps there was a little bit of occasional mischief. It can’t be avoided if you think about it. Forcing pubescent boys and girls with raging hormones into each other’s arms to dance. It’s a wonder we didn’t get into _real trouble_.”

“Do these cotillion sessions still happen? Did Draco go?”

Bilby appeared with their breakfast and placed plates before them with strawberry covered waffles, bacon, scrambled eggs, and sliced cantaloupe. Lucius waited for Hermione to start eating before he continued.

“Ah, yes…Draco. We did make Draco attend cotillion. It’s simply a rite of passage.”

Hermione watched Lucius chew and noticed the less than concealed smirk. “What? Did Draco get into trouble? I mean, its _Draco!_ You have to tell me.”

Lucius sipped his coffee and chuckled. “Well, there was a reason Draco didn’t get the firebolt when it first came out.” He started to laugh more heartily. “Now I can laugh at the humor of it. Of course, it was not a laughing matter at the time.” Lucius couldn’t miss her expectant, impatient expression and deliberately stalled any further explanation for his amusement.

“Well, are you going to tell me? Or will I have to beat it out of Draco?”

Lucius looked at her curiously. “Interesting choice of words, Miss Granger.”

Hermione felt herself flush as she realized the implication of what she had said. Her response was adamant. “Uh, no. I’m not in any way interested in _that_. It’s something Muggles say…jokingly.”

Lucius swallowed. “If you say so, my dear.”

She sipped her coffee. “Well?”

Shaking his head, he finally answered her question. “Well, Draco was always good at Charms.” Lucius cut a piece of waffle. “His cotillion instructor, who happened to be my cotillion instructor, as well as my father’s before me,” he stopped and cocked an eyebrow at her, “so, you can imagine how old she was.” He forked the piece of waffle into his mouth to chew and swallow. He then looked at her untouched plate. “Eat, Hermione.”

Hermione shook her head slightly, as though suddenly remembering breakfast was in front of her. She hastily took a bite of egg and after swallowing, a bite of bacon. Lucius watched her and then continued after confirming she was in the process of taking a third bite of food. “Well, she wasn’t a particularly friendly witch. She was downright miserable and nasty, actually.”

Hermione instantly thought of another instructor who was downright miserable and nasty and found herself smiling at the thought of him. Lucius, thinking her smile was for him, continued enthusiastically. “Well, Draco did not like her at all and charmed her feet to make an offensive sound with every step she took. I’ll leave it to your imagination the sound he chose.” Lucius gave her a knowing look before taking another bite of food.

Hermione shrugged lightly as she forked a piece of fruit. “Well, while disrespectful and certainly worth punishment, it sounds fairly innocuous.”

Lucius paused, his egg laden fork halting just before his lips. He did not even try to hide the look of pride in his eyes. “The Charm lasted for six days.”

Hermione’s jaw fell. “What? Six days! Why? Surely, she didn’t wait six days to seek help?!”

Lucius’ lips quivered as he tried to suppress a small chuckle. “Well, the poor old thing couldn’t hear very well and didn’t realize she was making any noise at all. It was several days before anyone realized it was a Charm and had the heart to tell her.”

Hermione’s hand flew over her mouth. “Oh, Merlin. So, she walked around, unaware, and others assumed she was actually…”

Lucius chewed and swallowed. “She had to go to St. Mungo’s to have it removed. The Charm was so sophisticated and thorough, it took three healers to figure out how to remove it.”

Hermione stared wide eyed as Lucius continued to eat. “So, if she couldn’t hear, and it was several days before it was determined to be a Charm, how was Draco implicated?”

Lucius sipped his coffee. “Well, actually, Ms. Sputtergrout never did find out it was Draco. An owl was sent out to all the parents as it was assumed it might have been done by a student. The minute the owl arrived I knew Draco was guilty.”

Hermione gave a him a confused and slightly accusatory stare. “Now why in the world did you immediately assume it had been your son’s doing?”

Lucius sipped his coffee. “He had performed the same Charm on all the house elves one day the summer before.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. “All of them? At the same time?”

Lucius smiled as he nodded.

“How did the house elves get rid of the Charm?”

Lucius shrugged. “The house elves fixed it with the snap of a finger. The only reason they didn’t fix it right away was because the little brat forbade them. Narcissa had been out for the day and I had been at work. The poor devils padded around the Manor all day with little claps of intestinal thunder sounding out with each step.”

Hermione and Lucius exchanged knowing looks and fell into riotous laughter.

Their laughter was interrupted by the approach of Bilby with a silver tray carrying an owl post. Lucius took the post off the tray. “Thank you, Bilby.”

The little elf disappeared with a loud pop.

“Ah well, interesting the house elves knew how to get rid of what took _three_ healers at St. Mungo’s to figure out. They are truly amazing beings.”

“Quite right,” he answered distractedly. He stared at the letter for a moment before handing it to her. “For you, my dear. Ironically, from Draco.”

Hermione took the letter, her expression displaying the surprise at having received an owl at the Manor. “Hmm, I wonder what this is about?” She tore it open and smiled. “Ah, that’s right. We are to have lunch together this week, I had forgotten. He is suggesting tomorrow.” Hermione folded and tucked the post in her pocket. “I’ll respond to him when I get home.”

“You are welcome to respond from the Manor. We have several owls at your disposal.”

“You are too kind, as always, Lucius. Thank you. I’ll quill my response after breakfast and send it.”

Lucius looked down at her hardly touched breakfast. “Please eat, Hermione. You must be hungry.” Hermione picked up her fork and began to eat as instructed.

Lucius summoned the Daily Prophet which had been left for his perusal on a small side board between two of the windows. He scanned the front page, occasionally peering over the lip of the paper to confirm she was still eating.

Hermione ate quietly as she pondered lunch with Draco. Odd that he had asked her, but she found she was looking forward to it. She had grown quite fond of the ferret. Another loud pop of Apparition caught both hers and Lucius’ attention. Bilby, once again, approached with the same small silver tray bestowing another owl post.

“What’s this?” Lucius mused. “It’s a holiday. What are all these posts about?” Hermione was only half paying attention. She had just swallowed the last mouth-watering bite of waffle when Lucius spoke. “It seems, Miss Granger, you are quite popular this morning.”

Confusion marred her expression as Lucius handed her another letter. She felt warmth creep up her body as she recognized her name written in the all too familiar, spiky script of her former Potions professor. Trying to maintain a semblance of control, despite the nervous tremor that was wreaking havoc inside her, she daintily took the post from Lucius’ elegant hand.

She felt his intense stare as her shaky fingers opened the note.

_Miss Granger,_

_It would be my pleasure to take you to dinner Thursday evening, should you be available. Kindly respond via owl post and, should you accept, I will forward further details._

_It was lovely to see you last evening. I trust you are continuing to enjoy the New Year’s Holiday._

_Fondly, Severus Snape_

Hermione let out a slow breath as she folded the post, carefully tucking it into her pocket alongside Draco’s. She looked up at Lucius to find his expression somewhat flat as though he were daydreaming while he looked at her.

She spoke softly as she explained what she hadn’t had a chance to tell him. “Last night Severus asked me to dinner for this week. I wasn’t expecting to hear from him so soon.”

Lucius tried to make his smile natural and honest, willing himself to be happy for her and his friend. “I am glad, Hermione. Perhaps now the two of you can actually talk and get past the miscommunication that has plagued you.”

Hermione nodded and let out a deep breath. “Yes, I hope so. I feel…I feel rather nervous.”

Lucius reached out and reassuringly took her hand. “Try not to be. I’m sure it will go well.” His look became more Dominant to match his stern words. “Remember, though, nothing sexual without coming to me first. You are mine; do not forget it.”

“Of course, Master. I think Severus and I will be taking things very slow from here on out.” She looked up at him earnestly. “I would not enter into a sexual relationship without your consent while I am your contracted submissive.”

“I’m glad you understand. If things progress, you must be honest and come to me. Your happiness is very important to me, but so is your mental and physical welfare. I will not pry into your relationship, but nor will I sit back and allow him or anyone else to hurt you. You are mine to protect and to look after and I fully intend to do so.” Releasing her hand, he pushed back from the table. “As we seem to be finished with breakfast, you must excuse me to my study, for despite it being a holiday, I find my work is never done.”

He stepped around to her chair and held out his hand. Placing her small hand in his, she stood as he remarked, “You are more than welcome to explore the Manor. The Library is quite large and well stocked with many centuries worth of knowledge.”

“Thank you, Lucius, but I should get home. I have things to do as well. I would love a rain check on the library, though.”

“Of course, my dear.”

Lucius led her back up the stairs, neither one speaking yet both fully aware of the change in formality of their conversation. Hermione felt a ping of loss for the laid back, playful Lucius of only moments earlier, but found she also appreciated the support and focus of his Dominant nature.

They entered her room and he led her to the desk, motioning towards the variety of stationery, quills, and ink. “After you have written your post replies, call for Tinny. She will see to it that they are dispatched promptly.”

Unable to stop herself, Hermione threw her arms around Lucius’ waist and hugged him tightly. After a brief pause, she closed her eyes in confused relief as his strong arms wrapped around her in return. Her words were whispered and heartfelt. “Thank you, Lucius. For everything.” She looked up at him to find his steel grey eyes on hers.

She felt warmth move through her when his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed slightly. The casual ease from earlier re-emerged, as he gave her a small grin. “It’s my privilege, Doll. You are most welcome. Come see me in the study when you are ready to depart.”

Lucius closed the door to her room and descended quickly down the stairs to his study. He immediately crossed to the sideboard and poured himself a whiskey. He was not one to drink this early, but he was on edge. He had needed to get away from her so that he could reground himself. Snape was wasting no time, although Lucius had expected nothing less at this point.

He stalked to his desk and collapsed into his chair. He spoke softly to himself. “No more, Lucius. No more nights like last night. No more sharing her bed. It was too…too intimate. Too perfect.” Sipping his drink, he continued to lecture himself internally. _You’re to be a good friend and a good Dominant. Nothing more, old man. You are not her lover. You’ll need to look somewhere else for that._

His musings were interrupted by her arrival, and he forced a small smile at her before stepping around his desk. Hermione spotted the glass of whiskey and felt a shiver of concern. It was awfully early for alcohol. Not saying anything, and pretending not to notice, she gazed warmly at him in return.

“Thank you again, Lucius. It was the most amazing night of my life.”

He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “It was my pleasure and I had a wonderful time as well. However, we fall back into the real world now, correct?”

Hermione glanced up at him, noticing a formal look about him. She stepped back. “Yes, Master.”

Lucius walked her towards the foyer and summoned her cloak. Placing it around her shoulders he commanded, “Wednesday evening at The Dungeon. Eight o’clock. Do not be late. Eat dinner before you arrive. No panty hose, a dress or skirt is acceptable.”

Hermione kept her gaze down. “Yes, Master.”

“Do not forget your required journal entries for yesterday and be on the lookout for further instruction via your journal later today.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Any questions before I send you home?”

“No, Master.”

“Very well, a kiss then.” He tilted her chin up and gave her a short but soft kiss on the lips before walking her to the floo. “I have added your flat to my floo network. I will see you on Wednesday, Doll.” He held the jar of floo powder out for her and watched as she dutifully took a handful and stepped into floo, calling out her destination. With a flash of green, she was gone.

Hermione landed in her floo and stepped out, her mind whirling with the brevity and formality of their goodbye. She felt a pang of confusion as she pondered how he could go from warm and flirtatious to formal and slightly distant so quickly. After a moment’s consideration, she realized what a truly busy man he was. Certainly, his mind had begun to swim with thoughts of work and responsibilities. She could completely relate. If she hadn’t been off today, and the rest of the week, she would have left hours earlier.

Finding herself alone for the first time in almost twenty-four hours, her thoughts quickly drifted to the wizard in black. A small squeal escaped her lips as she let herself fully appreciate she had a date with Severus Snape in three days! Escaping into her room, she opened her closet door wondering what in the word she would wear.

* * *

**Monday January 1 st  
2:21PM**

Dear Miss Granger,

First, my dear, I wish to thank you for an extraordinary weekend. You were absolutely divine – a dream come true. Your assignments, as briefly discussed, are below.

  1. Reflect on the two D/s scenes we have done thus far. Tell me what you liked or didn’t like. Have any of your limits changed? I wish to see this entry by Thursday evening at the latest.
  2. Since you are my sexual submissive, and not my 24/7 submissive, I will not control your orgasms outside of our sessions. We have already discussed the protocol I wish to use for future sessions. This being said, I wish to know when you pleasure yourself, pet. Please describe them in your journal when you find time. I’d like you to note when you have orgasmed and explain how you made yourself come.



That aside, I encourage you to save your pleasure for me, my pet. You’ll find your orgasms more intense and gratifying if you are not consistently taking care of yourself.

I will see you Weds and Friday at the club, please arrive no later than 8PM. As I said before, you must eat a full dinner before attending. We will discuss Sunday dinner plans Friday.

Yours,  
Master

* * *

**Monday January 1 st  
8:04 PM**

Master,

Our first two D/s scenes were utter perfection for me. I would change nothing. Nothing outside of my punishment, that is. However, I understand why I was punished and feel the punishment was swiftly dealt with and fair. My favorite aspects were being physically restrained, having you take my mouth forcefully, and the playful spanking Friday night while I was in the strappado position.

I am also very much enjoying the new knowledge and experiences. Learning positions and things I can do to please you – as well as the ball gag, blindfold, spreader bar (among other implements), and being suspended from your gorgeous chandelier – have all been exhilarating experiences. You have no idea how much your wisdom and expertise has already increased my confidence and self-awareness.

My limits have not currently changed, but I would definitely increase my rating on “dirty talk” from a 2 to a 5. It certainly added a dynamic that I was not expecting in the least.

Your skills with suspension have left me feeling exceptionally safe with the practice, and I am eager to try more.

I have to say, even though I feel embarrassed by it, that I am eager to move forward with anal play and anal sex. It’s something I have fantasized about for many, many years. I know you will set our pace, and I am perfectly accepting of that. I just want you to understand my enthusiasm.

I have read and understand your instruction on orgasming between sessions. I will try to refrain from masturbation because I know this will please you. Pleasing you is my greatest wish in our encounters.

 **Sunday:** You were with me for all meals outside of what I had written in my journal before coming to the Manor Sunday afternoon.

 **Monday:**  
**Sleep:** I honestly don’t know what time we went to bed last night, I was so blissed out. Plus, we were up for at least – an hour? Longer? in the middle of the night. I’m positive I didn’t get enough sleep last night, but I took the initiative and napped this afternoon.  
**Brunch:** With you.  
**Snack:** Bowl of frosted flakes, milk, grapes.  
**Nap:** 2:00-4:00PM  
**Dinner:** Peanut butter and jelly sandwich (this is a personal weakness of mine, you will most likely see it on my menu at least once per week), cottage cheese, grapes, small side salad.  
**Exercise:** Copious amounts of stellar sex.

Yours,  
Doll

* * *

 

Hermione arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early and was surprised to find Draco already there waiting for her. She walked over to him, a warm smile on her face to greet his matching one. He stood when she reached the table and pulled her into a hug.

“Beaves! So glad you could make it,” he teased.

“Wouldn’t dream of missing a lunch date with you, ferret.”

Hermione took the seat Draco pulled out for her, internally musing over his good manners...just like his father.

“I took the liberty of ordering a bottle of Cabernet and an appetizer.”

“Sounds good,” she replied as she pulled off her gloves and stuffed them into her purse. “I’ll confess, I was surprised by your invitation but pleased by it all the same.”

Draco shrugged. “I decided it was time to start getting to know each other outside of the club and I’m glad you agreed. It seems as though we are destined to be friends given our mutual proclivities and…your relationship with my father.” Hermione met his eyes and did not miss the searching look he was bestowing her.

“What?”

“What?” he mirrored back, an innocent look on his face. Too innocent in Hermione’s opinion. It was an expression she’d seen on Ron’s face many times at Hogwarts.

She gave him a stern look. “Don’t play innocent with me, Draco Malfoy. You have something on your mind. Spit it out.”

He leaned back and smirked. “Merlin, I love it when you get all bossy.” He shook his head lightly and whispered resignedly, “Such a waste.”

Hermione chuckled, “Come on, Draco. Spill the beans.”

He sat up straight and asked in all seriousness. “Fine. What are your intentions towards my father?”

Hermione’s jaw fell in utter bewilderment. Of all the questions he could have asked, this was not one she had anticipated. “My intentions towards your father?”

“Don’t play dumb, Granger. It doesn’t suit you. Answer the question.”

“I would happily answer it if I understood the _context_ of the question, Draco! What is this all about?”

The waiter approached with the bottle of wine and two glasses. Draco waved him away. “I’ll open it. Leave us, please.”

Hermione shook her head, perplexed by Draco’s behavior. “Well, that was rude! What’s wrong, Draco?”

Draco had already opened the bottle and was in the process of swirling, sniffing, and tasting. With a small nod to himself, he filled up her glass and then his own. He let out a heavy sigh of frustration and studied her. “I see how my father looks at you, Granger. I know him; he’s falling for you…hard. I don’t want to see him get hurt.”

Trying to ease his mind, Hermione reached across the table and took his hand. Her eyes met his and her sincerity was undeniable. “Draco, I care very much for your father.” He watched her for a few seconds before dropping his gaze in acceptance. She gave his hand a soft squeeze and then released it to pick up her glass and take a large swallow. As she put down the wine, she whispered to herself, but loud enough that Draco heard, “Perhaps more than is appropriate given our understanding.” Draco looked back at her. “How could I not, Draco? Lucius is the best of men. I hope to always be friends with him – the best of friends if I’m lucky.”

Draco sipped his wine, his brow furrowed with obvious concern. “Friends, huh? Well, I can tell you my father is well past simply wanting to be your friend.”

Hermione leaned back in her chair. “Draco, your father has made no indication or said a word about wanting anything more than my friendship and my submission. He has both. Don’t you think he would tell me if he felt or wanted more than that?”

Draco was quiet for a minute, simply watching her. “Yes,” he agreed finally.

“Don’t you think he is the kind of man who would go after what he wanted without hesitation?”

“Yes, Granger, he would but – ”

She broke him off. “Well, he has intimated nothing of the sort. And I’ll let you in on something else, your father is supporting me in the handling of the porcupine that is Severus Snape.”

Draco’s eyes grew slightly wider. “So, there _is_ something between you and Snape. Not that it wasn’t obvious something was stirring between you two. Despite being fully clothed, you may as well have been fucking on the dance floor for all the pheromones you two were putting off the other night. My father couldn’t keep his eyes off the two of you.” He paused and let out a slow breath while dropping his eyes to the table top. “If you could have seen his face maybe you would understand.” He raised his eyes to hers again; the searching look had returned.

Hermione smiled at him indulgently, willing him to understand what was a simple truth in her mind. “Draco, he was watching me because he’s fiercely protective of me.” She stopped, not sure she wanted to tell him the next part. She bit her lip and sighed. “Snape…Snape and I…we had a bad scene back before the holidays. He hurt me, not as much physically as he did emotionally. Your father – he took care of me afterwards. He doesn’t want me to be hurt by Snape again.”

For a moment, she was startled to see the shocked look on Draco’s face. She hastened to clarify. “But you see, it was all a misunderstanding. Snape and I…we struggle with communicating and Lucius has been helping us work through that.” Unable to contain her smile, she added, “Snape and I have a date this week because of your father’s help.”

Draco stared at her, a touch of disbelief now etched on the planes of his face. “You mean to tell me that my father is _helping_ you and Snape – what? – date?”

Hermione shrugged. “Well, yeah. Maybe… I mean we haven’t gone out yet and it could all be for nothing. There is something incendiary between Snape and I, though, and with your father’s help and _permission,_ we are going to try to figure it out.”

Draco let out a sigh and sipped his wine, the tension visibly easing out of him. “Wow, I didn’t know about any of that.” He watched her as she picked up her own glass. “You know, Granger, my father and Snape…they’re pretty close. It’s possible he has feelings for you and is putting them aside because he knows you like Snape. He would do just about anything for Snape. Just be on guard, okay? I really don’t want to see him hurt.”

Hermione felt affection swell within her for Draco. The way he loved his father was beyond touching. She spoke softly and reassuringly. “You are a wonderful son, Draco, and a good man. I wouldn’t hurt Lucius for the world, he’s come to mean a great deal to me and I adore him. However, I really don’t think he harbors anything more than concern and friendship for me.”

After a moment of thought, Draco conceded. “All right, I’ll trust you to be a better judge than me on this particular point, Granger. But just so you know, I don’t think he could take another heartbreak. My mother’s death just about killed him.” Draco stood up unexpectedly. “Need the loo. I’ll be right back.”

As Hermione sat alone, she felt a disquiet growing within herself. She thought back to the night before last and the way Lucius had looked at her after his dream. The passion between them… the tenderness…the _lovemaking._ Because it _had been_ lovemaking. _Yes, between friends,_ she told herself convincingly, _between friends._

A moment later Draco was back at the table and their appetizer followed close behind. After the waiter set down the plate, he asked if they were ready to order. Hermione shrugged apologetically, and Draco informed her resolutely, “There’s really no need to look at the menu, Doll. Trust me, you want the lobster risotto. It’s outstanding.”

Hermione shrugged and smiled. “Sounds good to me. I guess we’ll both have the lobster risotto.”

“Certainly, Madam.”

Hermione picked up her glass and sipped as Draco served up their appetizer. Remembering the last time she had seen him, Hermione couldn’t contain the giggle that overcame her. He looked at her expectantly. “What’s so damn funny, Granger?”

“Just thinking about the vision of you, bent over the love seat, green tights around your thighs as your adorable bum was being swatted by a very sexy cat’s tail. It was a sight to behold.”

He wagged his brow. “Adorable, huh?”

“Unfortunately, I only saw it in passing; your father refused to stay and watch.”

Draco gestured for her to eat. “That’s because we don’t really _…watch_ each other…if you know what I mean. I mean, we’re totally comfortable seeing each other at the club, but I have no interest in watching him have sex or anything. I’ve only observed him do instructional demo’s. He never stops to watch me when I sub and we never scene together. That would be…no thank you. He’s my dad, you know? He did watch me spank a submissive once, only because I asked for his guidance. For the most part, though, we give each other space and just do our own thing.”

Hermione looked down, about to cut into her appetizer when she froze. “Umm, Draco... what _is_ this?”

He looked at her like she had just asked what a wand was. “It’s Ahi Tuna. What do you think it is?”

“It looks like raw meat.”

Draco rolled his eyes, “That’s because it _is_ raw meat. But it’s seared deliciously on the edges. Try it, you’ll like it. It’s very tender and flavorful.”

Hermione put down her fork, “You know what, I’ll just wait for the risotto. I don’t want to fill up on raw tuna when I have a delicious _cooked_ meal heading my way.”

“C’mon, Granger. You could at least taste it. You might like it.”

“No thank you. Not interested.”

Draco smiled playfully. “Some Gryffindor you are. Wait ‘til I tell father.”

“I’m sure your father could care less about whether or not I partake in raw shark bait.”

He took a bite of the tuna and closed his eyes, chewing slowly with a look of sheer bliss.

Hermione shook her head. “So, I take it your night ended well then? On New Year’s?”

Draco shrugged as he took another bite. “It was good, I guess. Nothing earth shattering.”

She suddenly perked up. “Oh! Did you find out who the new Dominatrix is?”

After an exaggerated roll of his eyes, he shook his head in denial, his mouth too full to speak. A few chews later, he swallowed. “No, and Snape and father are being completely unreasonable. They won’t tell me anything useful. Well, except she’s unattached and she’s bi.”

“Well, that’s a start.” Watching Draco eat she recalled the conversation she and Lucius had about Draco on New Year’s Day. “So, your Dad told me some interesting stories about you.”

Draco looked up and his mouth froze mid chew. “Oh yeah? Like what?” he asked before swallowing, once again reminding her of Ron.

She smirked. “Well, who knew you were so good at charms? Poor Ms. Sputtergrout.”

Draco had swallowed and grinned as he sipped his wine. “Ah, yes…that was a favorite charm from my youth. She was the most miserable, god-awful teacher.” He shook his head in bewilderment as he stabbed another piece of tuna. “She couldn’t hear the music! How can a woman who can’t _hear_ teach dance? She was constantly off beat. I got tired of her correcting me and telling me I was wrong footed and not following the music. She was the worst.” He paused to eat the forkful of tuna before swallowing and continuing, shaking his fork at her in the process. “No one would listen to me when I complained. She was old and cranky, and I think the owner of the cotillion was actually scared of her.” He shrugged. “So, to prove my point that she couldn’t hear, I put the charm on her feet.”

Hermione chuckled. “Actually, Draco. I think it’s pretty clever – crude – but clever.”

“Wow, a compliment from Hermione Granger! Wonders never cease.” He watched her curiously for a moment. A grin crept over his face. “What a few months, eh?” He seemed to contemplate her for moment before asking with apparent genuine interest. “So, how’s it going? Your training. Do you think this is a passing interest? Or is this something for the long term? Submission, I mean.”

Hermione let out a quick, mirthless laugh. “Draco, I can’t explain it. I feel like a puzzle piece that has been missing my entire adult life has been found. I’m _so_ …happy. I’m enjoying my work more, I’m sleeping better, I’m having the best sex of my life. It’s… amazing.”

Draco smirked. “Yeah, you’re like me then. This is a way of life for me now. I just wish I could find the right witch. I’m ready for a more committed arrangement.” His voice softened a touch and a slight vulnerability shadowing his words. “This is new for me, feeling this way. Until recently, I was perfectly happy playing with a different witch every weekend and switching to a Top as needed. Now I really just want to sub, and I want to find the right woman to sub for.”

He paused and sipped his wine. “What about you? You’re going to sub for my father and date Snape? How’s that supposed to work?”

Hermione shrugged. “Honestly, Draco, I’m not really sure. Like I said, it’s just a date. It might lead to nothing. I’m certainly not going to have sex with him as I’m contracted with your father.” After a moment, she decided to open up a bit more to her unexpected friend. “You know, Draco, I’m like you. I find myself wanting to be in a committed relationship. I would like to get married and lay the foundation to start a family. I’m ready for that next step in life.”

Draco’s eyes shot up quickly, his surprise not concealed. “How does that play into your desire to be submissive? Somehow, I don’t see you being happy as a twenty-four/seven sub. Or, maybe you would be? There’s certainly nothing wrong with that, Granger.”

Gracing him with one of his own signature smirks, she cocked an eyebrow. “Uh, no. I’m definitively not looking for a twenty-four/seven Master, but I know that I love being sexually submissive.”

Draco shrugged. “Well, on the flip side, some marry vanilla and then come to the club to satisfy that urge. Have you thought about what you really want or how you would want it to work?”

“I guess in an ideal world, I’d marry a man who’s intelligent and holds interests in a vast array of topics. I need to be intellectually stimulated or I’ll become bored. I’d like him to have a warm heart and a sense of humor, and yes…I’d like him to be sexually Dominant. At the end of the day, after my responsibilities are tended to, I want him to take control.”

A pained look came over Draco’s face. “Damn, Granger. You’re describing exactly what I’m looking for. Why the hell aren’t you a Top?”

Hermione chuckled. “Why the hell aren’t you?” she countered.

After taking another bite of tuna, Draco answered her. “I’ve tried it. It’s fun and I get off on it, but only occasionally. Surrendering myself to a beautiful woman who demands my obedience, though?” He loosened his collar and gave her a sexy, lopsided grin. “There’s nothing that turns me on more.” After another sip of wine, he gave her a look of warning. “I have to ask, though, based on what you just said are you sure you aren’t wasting your time with Snape? I don’t really see him being…domestic.”

Polishing off her glass of wine, she contemplated her answer. “I guess I’ll find out. The truth is, I know Snape and I have sexual chemistry, but that’s _all_ I know. This is why I’m so curious about him. Maybe there’s more? I don’t know. All I can say is – believe me – I have every intention of finding out what he is seeking in life. Does he want a family…? That is something I’ll be asking him on Thursday.”

Draco cocked a brow. “You’re braver than I, Granger. I can only imagine the look he’ll give you when you ask him _that_ question. He’s likely to spank you for your audacity!” Hermione laughed.

“I’m serious, Granger,” he continued, “he’s my Godfather and I’ve spent a lot of time with him, especially since Mother…” He looked down and let out a slow breath. When he looked back up his eyes had a touch of moisture. “Since she’s been gone, Snape comes around a lot. He joins us for most holidays. Despite that, and despite the fact that we are friends, he’s never spoken about anything that personal.”

Hermione shrugged. “Well, I’ll regret it and always wonder ‘what if’ if I don’t explore the possibility with him. I have to ask the question because if his vision for his future is bachelorhood and revolving submissives? Then I’ll know he isn’t someone I should get emotionally involved with. I’ll be able to put him behind me and move on.”

“And if that happens? What about my Father? Any chance you could see yourself having a future with him?”

Hermione smiled. “I would be a lucky witch to end up with someone even close to the intelligence, warmth, and perfect Dominance of Lucius Malfoy. I’ve told you already, though, he doesn’t feel that way about me. And that’s okay! I love being his friend.” She wagged her eyebrows and grinned. “His friend whom he ball-gags, blindfolds, and suspends from the ballroom chandelier so he can have his wicked way with her.”

The look of shock on Draco’s face caused her to burst into a fit of giggles. “He suspended you from the chandelier? Which ballroom?” He quickly shook his head and waved her off. “Never mind, I don’t want to know. I’m sorry, but it’s just a bit weird seeing you with my dad. I mean your screwing my father in all kinds of depraved and dirty ways, Granger!”

Hermione laughed. “I can’t deny it...and I can’t deny I’m loving every minute of it.”

He made a face of disgust. “Yeah, let’s talk about something else.”

Just then the waiter approached and set their dinner plates in front of them. Hermione took a deep whiff and grinned appreciatively. “It smells delicious!”

They picked up their forks and began to eat. It tasted as good as it smelled and after a few bites, she sipped her refilled wine glass. She watched the blond sitting across from her as he ate. “So, the other morning I saw some horses at the Manor. One of them was an adorable miniature white pony. What’s the story?”

A childlike smile crept over his face. “That’s Mony.”

“Mony?”

“Well, he was given to me when I was three and I had a hard time saying pony, so I called him Mony. It just…stuck and he’s been Mony ever since.”

“He’s adorable.”

“I love that little guy. When I turned five, I started sneaking out to the barn and I would fall asleep in his stall. Bilby got tired of constantly having to bring me back every night so he Apparated Mony to my room and made a little stall for him next to my bed.”

Hermione watched him for a minute, waiting for the punch line. “Seriously? You had a horse stall…in your bedroom?”

Draco shrugged. “Bilby magicked it away every morning when Mony was Apparated back to the barn.”

Hermione shook her head in amazement. “And how long did this last?”

Draco chuckled. “Bilby kept it up until I was about fourteen.”

“What?!”

“He’s so small and the big horses chased him off sometimes. He was my friend and he was lonely. When I was at Hogwarts I used to worry about him…you know, not having me to look out for him.”

“So, what? When you were fourteen, Bilby just stopped?”

“Well, that was when mother found out about it. She told Bilby not to do it anymore.”

Hermione stared slack jawed. The more she got to know this man, the less he was like the monster she had imagined him to be all those years at Hogwarts. “Well, that must have been upsetting for you.”

Draco nodded. “Yeah, I pretty much started sleeping in the barn again most nights when I was home. Then when I got my Apparating license I simply brought him to my room myself.”

Hermione started to laugh. “You’re taking the Mickey, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m serious.”

“When did you stop?”

Draco shrugged and whispered. “He was at my flat two nights ago.”

* * *

That evening Hermione found her mind wandering as she set about completing the household chores she had neglected over the past several days. As she gathered up her dirty clothes, she thought back on her lunch with Draco. She and Draco were on their way to becoming good friends. It was an unexpected yet a very pleasant turn of events in her life.

As she thought back on their conversation she gave consideration to Draco’s concern about Lucius. While she still stood by every word she said to Draco, she had to admit the thought that Lucius was developing stronger feelings for her did not entirely sit poorly. She could not deny she and Lucius got on very well. If it wasn’t for Severus Snape, and the distraction he was providing, who knows how Hermione would feel about Lucius. He epitomized exactly what she was looking for in a wizard.

As she continued to ponder the ‘buts’ and ‘what ifs’, she thought back on Draco. If, somehow, the stars aligned in such a way that she found herself involved romantically with Lucius, Hermione had to wonder how that would affect her friendship with her old nemesis.

She couldn’t help but smile as she thought about their lunch. Of course **,** she relished their easy banter as well as his humor, but he also had a quick mind and held a vast array of interests. She appreciated his forth rightfulness as well as his affection and unwavering loyalty for his father. It was a refreshing friendship. Not to think down on her friends of the last two decades, for she fiercely loved Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Luna with all her heart. However, Draco’s sharp wit, intelligence, and shared interest in D/s, had provided a different caliber of conversation that Hermione really enjoyed. It also helped that when she was around him, occasional bouts of jealousy did not plague her. Draco was at the exact same place in life that she was – ready and waiting for the perfect someone to come into his life so he could fall in love, marry, and start a family.

She felt on an equal playing field with the man. Not to mention they had an integral part of their make up in common – both being sexually submissive. She knew she could ask Draco real questions and he would know what she was referring to and help her figure out her confusions or hesitancies. Of course, it also helped that they both agreed that an actual romantic relationship between the two of them would be a _hellacious_ idea. The fact they had already established and agreed to that critical point took the pressure of the “Maybe we should try and date?” debate off the table. It meant that they could be comfortable with each other and know that the other wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship even if there was good sexual chemistry.

But the question was, if she were to one day date Lucius, how would that impact her friendship with the younger Malfoy? While she didn’t think Draco would mind if she were in a “real” relationship with Lucius (instead of just a D/s relationship). There was the worry, though, that that if things didn’t work out with Lucius, she and Draco would have a hard time staying friends. Hermione found she _wanted_ Draco as a friend and she felt she needed to be cautious with Lucius or she might complicate that hopeful connection.

She finished organizing the laundry and made her way to her bedroom. She needed to complete her journal entry for the night before she washed for bed. She had a good fiction book she wanted to get back to and knew if she didn’t finish it before her vacation was over, it would sit on her nightstand for months. Her thoughts drifted from Draco back to Lucius, and she felt a warm, tingly glow creep from her gut throughout her body all the way down to her toes. She couldn’t help the small grin that grew to a wide, toothy smile on her face as she thought of him. She easily recognized her increasing dependence on him and their developing friendship. The dreaded thought of dating him only to break up, and consequentially lose his friendship, left a hollow in her heart she could feel even now – at just the mere thought of it. He meant far too much to her to let that happen. She internally laughed, _It’s a good thing Draco is wrong then._ If Draco were correct? If she were to find out that Lucius harbored such feelings for her? _That_ would be hard to resist, but what choice would she have? She would do nothing that would put their friendship at risk. She sighed and sat down at her desk, wetting her quill.

* * *

Lucius felt his ring heat as he sat in front of the fire, his elbow propped on the arm rest and a glass of rich merlot in his hand. _Good girl,_ he thought with a fond smile. Then it slipped as he remembered he was supposed to be _distancing_ himself. He sighed and set his forehead against the cool glass. After a brief moment, he downed the last swallow in one gulp and pushed himself to stand.

He settled into his desk chair and pulled out his journal, his eyes falling on her loopy, elegant script.  
  
**Tuesday January 2 nd  
10:52 PM**

Master,

 **Sleep:** 11:30PM – 8:45AM  
**Breakfast:** Oatmeal, banana, orange juice.  
**Exercise:** Five-mile outdoor run.  
**Snack:** Celery and peanut butter.  
**Lunch:** Lobster Risotto, two glasses cabernet. Your SON tried to get me to eat raw tuna. I will not eat raw fish. Just a heads up when you’re planning Sunday dinners.  
**Dinner:** Bag of kettle corn – no judging. I was still full from lunch. I missed seeing you today, Master. I’m looking forward to tomorrow evening.

Yours, Doll

Lucius let out a slow, deep breath as he read the last three lines over and over again. _I missed seeing you today. I’m looking forward to tomorrow. Yours, Doll._ He placed both elbows on his desk and uncharacteristically rested his eyes into the heels of his palms. _Merlin, what have I gotten myself into?_


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - This chapter has a pretty intense scene that's quite emotional.

"Hello ladies!" Hermione chirped happily as she all but skipped up to the table where Ginny and Luna were sitting at the Leaky Cauldron. She was happy to spend some times with her two oldest girlfriends. Dinner with the girls was just the thing to set the stage for what she hoped would be a wonderful evening. "How are you today?"

Her friends exchanged bemused smiles before looking up at their curly haired friend with matching grins. "Have a seat, 'Mione," Ginny gestured with a wave of her hands.

Hermione looked at the redhead curiously before dropping into the seat next to Luna and tucking her purse on the floor between her feet. She was pleased to see an appetizer basket on the table and an iced glass of cola waiting for her. "I feel like I'm missing something," she deadpanned. "Don't tell me – one of you is having twins?"

Luna's face went pale and Ginny's eyes widened in horror. "Don't say something like that!" the later hissed. "Ee gads. I would wind up with black-haired Fed and Georges!"

"And I'm not sure I could survive another set, myself," Luna whispered, still ashen-faced.

Hermione looked between her friends again before letting out a mirthless chuckle. "You would both be fine, and your men would be super proud of their virility. Calm yourselves."

Ginny rolled her eyes and Luna covered Hermione's hand with her own. "You know you'll find him, right Hermione?"

Not for the first time in her life, Hermione was confused by her friend's ethereal nature. "What are you talking about, Luna?"

"Your mate, you'll find him." She squinted her startling blue eyes at Hermione. "Sometimes I see him as dark and looming, but sometimes I see him as regal and fair. There was even a week there that I saw Charlie Weasley as your match, isn't that hilarious? You two would never work. It's very confusing for me, which is unsettling."

Hermione stared, open-mouthed at the blonde. "Where did that come from?"

"Oh, come off it, HG," Ginny teased. "We so know you're ready to have a family. Poor Harry has been fretting about you for the last year. He's worried we're going to lose you."

"What?" It was an incredulous statement.

"Well – it was just a couple months ago you told him you felt like you didn't have anything in common with us anymore," Ginny sighed. "He was a wreck."

Guilt flooded Hermione and she felt her face heat with shame. "I would never distance myself from you all completely," she murmured. "You're my family. Ever since mum and dad…" She trailed off, closing her eyes. "We are on different pages in life, Ginny. That doesn't mean I don't love you all to bits and pieces. And I adore my nieces and nephews."

"We know Hermione," Luna said in her airy trill. "Ginny – in a roundabout way – is trying to ask you about the most peculiar photograph she came across in _The Broom Closet_. We were ever so surprised."

Hermione felt the blood drain from her face. Who the hell had she been photographed with? "W-who?"

"Oh!" Ginny's eyes lit up mischievously. "Is there more than one man you've been sneaking around with? Do tell!"

"No…?" Stated as a question left little room for doubt. Ginny started giggling uncontrollably and she pulled the gossip rag out of her bag and set it on the table. A small box in the lower right-hand corner had a picture of her and Draco at lunch the day before. It had been caught at a very opportune moment – they were both smiling sweetly at each other and Hermione had her hand over the top of his. The caption said _Old Rivals Find New Love?_ "Oh, Merlin, Morgana, and Nimue! Are you _kidding_ me!?"

"So, are you dating him?" Ginny looked too excited and Luna's eyes were dancing with merriment.

"He fits my regal and fair vision," the blonde hinted smugly.

"I am not dating Draco Malfoy," Hermione hissed irritably. "We would make a _terrible_ couple!"

"What are you doing out with him, then?" Ginny crossed her arms grumpily under her chest, bummed to be denied juicy gossip.

"We're…friends," Hermione answered vaguely. "We made a recent connection and just sort of … clicked." It was a most definitely an understatement but what else was she supposed to say? Draco and I both like to be tied up and spanked until our bottoms are black and blue? He pretended to rape me, and it was some of the hottest sex of my life? His daddy ties me up and hangs me from the chandelier and I love it? She snorted, she wasn't ready to share any of this, even with these two.

"Gah," Ginny looked completely put out. "Harry said something about a Slytherin. I was _so_ sure!"

"Harry is a gossip and I don't think I'm going to talk to him anymore!" Hermione was playfully affronted, but she had known better. Harry never kept anything from Ginny. Telling one was like telling them both. Luna on the other hand…Luna could keep a secret.

"Give me something, HG," Ginny whined. "I'm bored off my rocker at home with all these littles!"

Hermione felt a little twinge of annoyance at her friend's off-hand statement but brushed it away. She was sure that she would be bored if she was home with a bunch of little kids and no adults to talk to, as well. She hesitated for a moment, dare she tell her friends...?

"Ginny – you have to promise you won't tell Harry." Her voice was dead serious, and Ginny's pretty brown eyes grew wide with excitement.

"You _are_ dating Malfoy, aren't you?!"

"Sh! I am not," Hermione shushed. "Just…stop for a second. I'm serious. I'm excited about this, but it's probably going to freak you two out. I want to tell the boys on my own terms. Besides that, I have no idea if it's going to go anywhere. Can you promise to _try_ and keep it a secret, Ginny?"

Ginny straightened and nodded emphatically, and Luna giggled. "I'll help her," she swore.

"Okay," Hermione let out a long breath. She really could use some girl talk about this, she hoped she wasn't making a massive mistake by jumping the wand here. "I have a date tomorrow night."

"Who?" Ginny demanded while Luna only watched her with a faraway smile on her face.

"Severus Snape." Well, there was no point in dragging out the inevitable.

It was so quiet at the table you could have heard a pin drop. "Come again?" Ginny looked horrified while Luna's expression hadn't changed.

Hermione scowled. "Snape. Severus Snape."

"I – I'm positive I didn't hear you right," Ginny looked at Luna with searching eyes. "Did you just hear her say she's going on a date with our old Potions professor? _Old_ being the operative word."

Hermione clicked her tongue in disgust at Ginny's pun while Luna answered. "I did," she said in a dreamy tone. "He's a very intriguing wizard, don't you think? Very intelligent. Don't we always say that our Hermione needs a smart man?"

"He…He's…" Ginny sputtered a moment before finishing, "Severus Snape? Really?" She looked Hermione up and down incredulously, like she was waiting for Hermione to yell, "Just kidding!"

Hermione nodded, her eyes on the table while she mutilated a fried mushroom between her fingers. She shouldn't have said anything. Now she felt silly and awkward.

"Okay," Ginny said grudgingly after a few minutes. "Okay, I can see it. He's super powerful and – like Luna said – insanely smart. I can see it."

Hermione's eyes met Ginny's gratefully.

"He's quite attractive as well," Luna added her unique point of view to the table. Ginny made a face, but Luna didn't notice. "Not your typical handsome, but the way he holds himself and speaks – he's very commanding and domineering. I find that attractive in a man." Hermione felt a blush heat her cheeks; Luna was too perceptive for her own good.

"And you ended up with Ron because…?" Ginny teased, Luna laughed.

"Because he's sweet," Luna said simply.

"But seriously," Ginny turned back to Hermione, her look incredulous. "Professor Snape? How in the world did that connection happen?"

 _Crap! Just…crap!_ Why hadn't she thought this far ahead? "Uh…ran into each other at the book store?" It came out as a squeaky question and Hermione wanted to kick herself. _Idiot!_

Her friends, bless them, pretended not to notice. "Hmm," Luna mused. "Are you excited?"

Hermione's stomach flipped, and she couldn't help the slow grin the split her face. "Yes, I'm excited…"

* * *

Arriving a little early, Hermione slipped on her mask before dashing to the loo. The two colas and glass of water she had at dinner with the girls really caught up to her quickly! Once she was out of the bathroom, she glanced around the main room. Not seeing Lucius, she headed for the bar in search of Jonathan. Hermione was grateful that Lucius amended his rules so that she was allowed to talk to a few select members if she arrived at the club early or was there when Lucius wasn't for some reason.

Jonathan was one of her permitted few. Unfortunately, he wasn't to be found. She glanced over her shoulder, noticing only a few handfuls of people conversing in clusters around the room. Wednesday night was not a particularly busy night at the club, plus it was only seven-thirty. Spotting movement to her left, she turned to see Jonathan enter the bar from a back door. Hermione could immediately tell something was wrong. There was no greeting smile matched with an exuberant hello. In fact, he didn't seem to even notice her.

She stood up and approached the end of the bar where he was unpacking a box. "Hey Jonathan, how's it going?"

His eyes met hers in surprise. "Oh, hey poppet. I didn't see you there." He looked from her to the box again, lifting his right hand to rub his eyes. It suddenly dawned on her that he looked like he had been crying and was obviously trying to conceal his tears.

She whispered softly, concerned. "Hey, you okay?"

Jonathan looked back at her. "Oh yeah, just a bad day. I'm fine" He smiled at her, but she could see it was only for show. "How are you? You seeing Master Lucius tonight?"

Respecting his change of subject, she nodded. "Yeah, I'm subbing Wednesdays and Fridays."

He nodded absently, and Hermione wondered if he had even heard her. "Jonathan, I totally understand if you don't want to talk, but I can tell something is bothering you. I'm here for you, okay? You know – if you need a friend?"

He closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair. When he opened them, they reflected light from fresh unshed tears. He shrugged, "Clarise and I had a fight and I said some things I didn't mean. Now she won't talk to me." He pointed to the back door. "She just stopped by to remove my collar, saying she had no further need of my…services."

Hermione scrunched her face. "Ouch. Do you think she meant it? Maybe she just needs a little time? When did you fight?"

"This morning. I was at her place and an old sub of hers showed up. She invited him in and when I came out of the bedroom, she was hugging him." Jonathan looked down, shamefaced. "I kind of…lost it. I said some nasty things and made some accusations I didn't really mean or even believe. I just…I saw her with him and I saw red.

"He said he would leave and she told him to stay. She said that _I_ was the Neanderthal and therefore _I_ was the one who would be leaving. I was so angry I called her a couple of choice names and stormed out." He shook his head. "Merlin, Hermione, I can't believe I reacted that way. I know Clarise is so much better than what I accused her of, but my last girlfriend? She cheated on me for months before I found out. Seeing Clarise in another man's arms… It just – it brought back all that anger and frustration and I simply lost my head."

"Did you explain all this to Clarise?"

"I tried, but she was so mad she wouldn't listen. She said she had spent more than her share of time with asshole men who thought they could bully her and push her around and I was clearly just another one of them." He waved his wand, levitating a couple bottles from the box to the counter. "It was all so innocent, Hermione. He had just come by to let her know his mother had passed away early this morning. Apparently, Clarise had been close to her. The woman had been sick for a long time and had been at St. Mungo's." Jonathan shook his head despondently. "It's such a messed-up situation. I completely over reacted, and I don't blame her for dumping me."

Jonathan's expression became tense as he continued levitating bottles of liquor from the box. "It doesn't matter. It's over. I just need to try and not think about it." He glanced back at Hermione as he wiped his brow. "I'll be okay."

It was plain to see he was hurting and was trying to put up a tough front. Hermione couldn't bear it. She lifted the bar gate and stepped through, so she was with him behind the bar. Because he was so much taller than her, she hopped up on the box of bottles, so she could pull him into a huge bear hug. After a second's hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face into her hair. She held him tight as she whispered that it would be okay. "Give her a little time, Jonathan. Once she's had a chance to calm down, you owl her and ask her if you can see her. Don't just show up, okay? Let her control the where and when. When she agrees to see you, just be honest and tell her your side of things. Tell her you were wrong and that you're sorry."

* * *

Snape watched Hermione on the monitors as she came out of the loo and sat at the bar. He knew she was meeting Lucius for her Wednesday session, she was early. He found he couldn't take his eyes off her – he was so inexplicitly drawn to her it confused him at times. Before November if anyone had asked him about Hermione Granger he would have referred to her as his most annoying student. The know-it-all swot who asked too many questions and liked to deter his course aims. Brilliant, but infuriating. Funny how times changed.

It was rare he had an opportunity to just watch her like this. He found himself cautiously optimistic their date would go well, but it was no surprise to him that he was terrified. It had been a long time since he had been on an actual date and he had _never_ been on a date with a woman he was so incredibly drawn to.

Snape sat up slightly when he watched Hermione lift the bar gate. _What is she going behind the bar for?_ His eyebrows shot up when she climbed on a box and threw herself at the pup. _Ahh, Princess…what are you doing?_ He felt his hackles rise when the pup hugged her back and buried his snout into her hair. Unfortunately, Snape was in no position to march down there and pull Jonathan's grubby little paws off her.

The truth was that there was a bigger concern here, though. Snape was well aware of his best friend's rules when it came to his submissives. They shared many of the same. He felt Lucius would need to be told. The thought had barely crossed his mind when his fireplace glowed green. _Speak of the devil…_

Lucius brushed himself off as he stepped out of the office floo. "Good evening, Severus."

"If you say so," the enigmatic wizard responded in his typical bored fashion.

Lucius hung his cloak and walked towards his desk on the other side of the office. He draped his beloved, hand-made scarf over his chair before he picked up a stack of papers and flipped through them. "Anything of interest going on this evening?"

Severus glanced at the monitor. Hermione had returned to sit on a barstool, sipping what looked like strawberry water and continuing her conversation with Jonathan as he resumed stocking the bar. Grabbing a stack of accounts payable forms that needed his signature, Severus picked up his quill and began the odious task as he spoke. "I guess it depends on what you consider interesting. Miss Granger has been here for a while."

Lucius looked up. "She was early?"

"She arrived around seven-thirty."

Lucius simply nodded as he went back to his paperwork.

"She also seems rather…overindulgent with her affections this evening."

Lucius looked over his shoulder at the monitor. "She is simply conversing with her friend, Severus. That is _hardly_ considered overindulgent affection." He smirked as he added, "Although, I can see why _you_ would misinterpret conversation and the exchange of pleasantries as being overindulgent." Lucius chuckled to himself as he sat down at his desk, careful not to sit on and his scarf – he wouldn't want to damage it.

"Jest all you want, Lucius, but I am not referring to her current activities."

Lucius continued his work and sighed heavily as he asked, "Okay, Sev, I'll bite. Pray tell, what did the poor girl do to earn your obvious disapproval?"

Severus smirked internally. "It's not _my_ displeasure, Lucius. I fear she will have earned _yours_."

Rubbing his temples to assuage what felt like an oncoming headache, Lucius said quietly, "Just tell me Severus. I'm not in the mood for your typical sport tonight."

Severus continued signing the forms. "Tell me, Lucius, do you no longer deny your submissives the pleasure of touching and hugging other men while in the club?"

This got Lucius' full attention. He swung his chair around to face his taciturn pain-in-the-arse friend. His tone impatient, he demanded, "Of course not. What are you talking about?"

Snape paused his writing as he stared at the parchment before him. For a second, he considered not telling Lucius. For a flash he felt guilty and then it faded as his reasoning became sound in his mind. _Hermione is with Lucius for training. She wants and needs to learn, and Lucius needs to know what she did so that he can teach her and correct her._ If it were any other submissive, Snape wouldn't hesitate to tell Lucius. They always had each other's backs when it came to their submissives. Snape put down his quill and turned back towards his friend. He spoke calmly and without his usual snark. "I fear you have failed to impress the significance of that rule on your submissive, my dear sir."

Lucius tilted his head, as though he didn't quite hear correctly. "What do you mean? What happened, Severus?"

Snape sighed heavily and turned back towards his parchment. He kept his description factual. "She went behind the bar, climbed on a box and threw her arms around Jonathan. She hugged him tightly for a good two minutes as she whispered into his ear." Lucius didn't say anything, so Severus continued, knowing the blond man needed to hear all of it. Snape would want the same if he were in Lucius' stead. "Not only did Jonathan hug her back, but the exchange was witnessed by several members who were congregating in the main room as well as a few staff."

A few seconds of awkward silence followed as Lucius processed what he had just been told. The blond stood and threw his quill on his desk. His voice was deadly calm as he stood and smoothed out his robes. "Thank you for telling me, Severus. I apologize in advance, but I hope you don't have plans that require a lot of sitting on your date tomorrow. Miss Granger is going to have a very sore bottom indeed."

Lucius stormed out of the office and suddenly Snape felt a touch of regret. He knew he had done the correct thing, but why did it feel so wrong? _Because she's not just any submissive and you know it!_ As much as he fought it and tried to deny it, Hermione Granger was turning the structured cocoon of his life inside out. He had just tattled on the woman he was hoping to have a real future with. He looked at the monitor and watched her as she conversed innocently with her friend – completely unaware of the shit storm that was about to blow. _You really are a fucked-up bastard_ , _Severus Snape_.

* * *

Hermione was sitting at the bar, observing a much calmer Jonathan when she noticed Lucius come out of the back where the offices and restrooms were kept. Funny. She didn't remember seeing him come in at all. She kept her eyes averted to the bar and took a small sip of her strawberry water, waiting for him to approach and give directions.

She certainly hadn't expected the firm grip that encircled her upper arm. She let out a small yip of protest when the grip tightened to a painful vice as he jerked her up and off her stool. "Master, is some –"

"Not a word, Doll," he hissed as he marched her through the bar. She kept her gaze locked on the floor as her heart sank and blood started pounding in her ears. The next thing she knew there was a rough hand on the back of her head and her nose was being pushed into the corner pillar where Etan had made Rose stand all those weeks ago. "Hands on your head," he commanded.

She complied without hesitation, placing both palms on top of her head as tears stung her eyes and tickled her nose. Her entire body started trembling as she wracked her brain, trying to figure out what she had done wrong.

"You are in trouble." Lucius' voice was cold and hard, and her tears spilled over her lower lashes at the sound of it, her breath hitching in her throat. "Stop crying," he bit out, suddenly sounding a bit reluctant. She could tell he was abruptly trying to calm her and maintain his upset at the same time. However, she was so distraught that she was pretty sure nothing would succeed.

She bit her lip and sucked a breath through her now semi-occluded nose and nodded, trying to calm her tears. "You will stand here for thirty minutes and think about what you have done," he said tightly.

She drew a breath to ask what it was she had done wrong when he snapped, "You _will not speak_ , pet." Her jaw clicked shut and she let out another hasty nod. Anything to please him, anything to make him happy again. It would be easier to stand here if she knew _why_ she was in trouble, but she was sure they would talk about it after. When he walked away from her, it took everything she had not to verbally protest the loss of his nearness. She was sure it was part of her punishment, but did he realize the pain it caused her? Knowing he was upset and leaving her? She drew in more steadying breaths, willing the tears away. She tried to calm herself and think it through.

 _Take a deep breath and remain calm, Hermione. Perhaps you didn't do anything wrong. Maybe this is part of a training scenario? Humiliation?_ Somehow, she doubted it. He would talk to her first, wouldn't he?

Fifteen minutes passed, and she was no longer crying, just standing in front of her own little corner while staring into the red paint. She still wasn't sure what she had done to earn her Master's ire, but the bigger problem now was that her arms were starting to tremble with the fatigue of holding them on her head. Slowly, she laced her fingers together and let them go limp while using her head and neck to support them. After five minutes, her neck started to ache. Tears sprung unbidden to her eyes once again. She felt one trickle down her cheek only to be caught by her mask. Nothing was more unbearable than the sting of disappointment in her chest. Hermione could feel Lucius' eyes on her; she wished he would return to her. Closing her eyes caused two more tears to be set free. Hermione kept them closed, however, and concentrated on her breathing. In, out. In, out. _Calm. Stay calm. He will explain what you did wrong and you can make your amends._

Lucius sat at the bar, a seltzer water in hand. He would kill for it to be whiskey – anything stronger would do. His gaze never left the petite young woman in the corner. He knew the exact moment when having her hands on her head became enough of a discomfort to cause tears. He watched her with grudging admiration as she obviously gave herself an internal pep talk.

He had made her stand in the corner to calm his own fury with her. She had been told more than once that touching people at the club was not acceptable. The fact that Snape had caught her and Jonathan in each other's arms was a huge offence. Worse was the fact that she had done it in the middle of the effing bar. Lucius imagined she had what in her mind was a very good reason for this display. It did not matter, though, he would have to punish her. Part of her punishment was this public display in the corner; a public disobedience equaled a public punishment. He would not have members or staff say he was going soft – even if he did have a soft spot for _her._ This was going to be extraordinarily difficult, more so for her than him. Punishment was a part of Dominance he enjoyed as it helped him focus and appease that darker side of himself. That part of his sexuality that could only be sated in the realm of this world of closed doors and secrets. However, outside of the three cane strikes Snape had given her, Hermione had never experienced a full-on punishment. Certainly not one of _his_ full-on punishments.

Lucius' wand vibrated silently in his sleeve; her time was up. He took three deep swallows of his drink to finish it, letting the carbonation sear the back of his throat. He set it on the bar with a clunk, squared his shoulders and stalked to the pillar. "You may put your arms down and follow me." He kept his voice low, but his displeasure was still evident. He saw her give a jerky nod, noting the dark spots on her mask that indicated she had been crying. He gritted his teeth and strode away at a clipped pace. He would not look over his shoulder to see that she was following him. He would _not_.

He made his way down the stairs and led her straight to the private rooms. Not much would be needed – a davenport for aftercare, some implements to choose from, blank wall space – that was it. His mind whirled with what he needed to do to make this right. Everything needed to be set perfectly, it was her first true punishment scene. They would talk so she understood completely what was happening and why. He had a short teaching moment in mind. Then they would commence with the punishment, aftercare, and he would take her home.

It startled him that underneath his anger and displeasure was an unfamiliar feeling of fear. He was quite certain that this would devastate her – it already had if her continued silence and traces of tears were any indication. He had an underlying concern about how deeply she would let her disappointment in herself affect her.

"Prepare yourself for me," he stated solemnly as she entered the private room directly behind him. Lucius placed himself on the arm of the davenport and watched as she gently closed the door and made her way silently to the table below the supply cabinet. She hesitated only briefly before unzipping her dress, kicking her shoes off under the table, and stripping to her knickers. She folded each item and set them carefully on the stand before removing her mask. Walking back to the door, she took two steps in and two the left before sinking into the standard kneeling position, her head down.

"I want Nadu," he said stiffly. She adjusted, spreading her legs into a V and turning her palms up on her thighs.

Silence.

More silence.

When she started sniffling, he spoke. "You will be punished tonight, Miss Granger. Tell me why."

"I don't know what I've done, Master," she said softly.

The immediacy of her response startled him as much as her words and Lucius' eyebrows shot up in surprise. She didn't know what she'd done? Ridiculous…!

Or maybe not so ridiculous. She was still very new to this world. This was only her third time at the club as his submissive. Perhaps she had just simply forgot and hadn't thought about the rules in place. If that were the case, she would never simply forget again after tonight.

"I find this hard to believe, Miss Granger." It was said in a clipped tone. "When you arrived this evening and I was not present, what did you do?"

"I was early," she whispered. "I needed the loo. When I came back from the bathroom, Jonathan had just come out of the storeroom. He was upset, and I …" Immediately she knew what she had done, what had provoked Lucius' displeasure. She had touched someone while at the club. _But…_ her mind raced, trying to justify her actions. They were alone behind the bar. No one was paying attention to them. He was her friend, she provided comfort – how did Lucius even _know_?

"And you _what_ , Miss Granger?" he knew she had caught on. They were on the same page.

"I comforted him, Master." Her voice was trembling. "But we – "

"But _nothing_ , Miss Granger. There are no buts. You know the rules, you do not touch _anyone_ without my permission when you are at the club!" He saw her jaw clench. She still didn't understand, Lucius realized he needed to know where her mind was at before he could address this in a way that brooked no argument.

"Speak, witch," he commanded. "Tell me why you think you are not in the wrong."

"I didn't say that, Master," Hermione protested, her voice tight with tears.

"You didn't have to say it, Miss Granger." Lucius sucked in a deep breath. He needed to maintain his control over his emotions or he would not be able to get the punishment over with tonight. It would be much harder on the her if this had to be postponed. "It's written in your body language."

She was quiet a moment, and he allowed her to collect her thoughts. "He's my friend, Master."

"I am aware."

"He was upset, we were essentially alone. I thought…well, I didn't think. I just reacted – my friend was hurting!" She was defensive, which would not do.

Lucius contemplated her words briefly. Of course, she had been comforting a friend. It was the epitome of her personality. "You could have comforted without touch."

"Master, you know me! Touch is a huge part of who I am. It was innocent. No one saw!"

"No one _saw_?!" He barked it and she visibly started. " _That_ is where you are wrong, Miss Granger. No!" He slashed his hand through the air when she drew a breath to protest. "You were _seen_ , Miss Granger. You and I both know I would know nothing about the transgression if you _hadn't_ been seen. If you hadn't been seen, you would not be in trouble at the moment – _would you_?"

She shook her head, and he knew she was crying again even though her hair had fallen to cover her face. He ground his teeth, his stomach dropping. His reaction to her tears confused him. Lucius had made more submissives cry than he could remember but never had it bothered him before. Not like this.

He shook his head, dismissing his uneasiness. Now that he understood where her mind was, he had to figure out how to proceed. It was silent for many minutes, except for her soft sniffles. "I am struggling to figure out how to make you understand why this act of disobedience is such a big deal," he started softly. He was no longer angry, disappointment was his major emotion. He also felt sorry for her, he knew she had not acted intentionally against his rules. Her offense was that she hadn't stopped to think. Instead, she had gone through with her Gryffindor-like impulses.

Lucius was well aware that no one was harder on Hermione than she, herself. He knew his displeasure was causing her agony. That is where punishment came into the fold. Punishment was cleansing. It cleansed the submissive of their guilt and the Dominant of their disappointment. When it was over, the slate was clean. That didn't mean it wasn't difficult, however. For either party.

"I need you to realize that I know your disobedience was not done out of spite," he said delicately. "I know you have a soft heart and are _fiercely_ protective of the people you care for. But Miss Granger, you step into a different world when you enter this club. Here, you belong to me. Everyone in this club _knows_ that you are mine. It is stated boldly on that collar you wear.

"Even though Jonathan is your friend, even though he is a submissive, you willingly and without my permission put your arms around another man. You were seen. For me to have another Dom inform me that you were hugging another man, in this club, is a _huge_ embarrassment. You know you are not to touch _anyone_ without my permission when you are here and wearing my collar. When you do that, you make me look like a Dom who is not respected by his submissive. This reflects poorly on me and my training of you. Your behavior is a reflection of my Dominance, the respect you have for me, and the respect you have for the rules I have placed on you.

"Tonight, you have publicly disrespected me – and there is no greater offense in my mind. Whether or not your actions were intentional – and I do not believe you intentionally disrespected me, I wish to make that clear – I cannot ignore it. If I ignore this disrespect, it makes me look weak. Even worse, it makes me _feel_ weak. And if there is one thing I am _not_ , Miss Granger, it would be a weak Dom. Even for _you_.

"I need to re-establish my control over you, Miss Granger. Punishment is the tool I use, as do many other Dominants, to accomplish this task. It will not be easy, but I guarantee that you will not forget again and this lesson will be learned. This allows us both to move on from this transgression and start fresh. Do you understand _now_ why you will be punished for this offense?"

"Yes, Master." Her small, trembling voice broke his heart. Lucius turned his face from her view and squeezed his eyes shut. His reactions to her upset were unusual for him – he was being more affected than he would care to admit. "I'm so sorry," her words were thick with sincerity.

"Apologize again, after," he murmured, not unkindly. "Look to the wall at your left, we will have a short lesson and then move forward quickly. I wish to deal with this transgression directly and put it behind us. Are you in agreement?"

"Yes, Master," she answered, and complied immediately to find simple drawings of submissive poses illuminated on the wall.

"The pose on the left is called _Humble_ , it is the position you will take when I tell you what your transgression is and what your punishment will be. This is also the position to be used if you ever have a confession to make. If you have done something that you wish to ask my forgiveness for, this is how I expect you to present yourself to me. The position on the right is called _Wall_ and will be the position you take when I tell you to prepare for your punishment. Understood?"

"I understand, Master."

"Humble," he directed. She pulled her knees back together and moved into a bow, she crossed her wrists, placed her palms flat to the floor, and dipped her head between her elbows. Standing over her, Lucius announced her offense and her sentence. "Miss Granger you are being punished for failure to follow a specific directive. You touched another person while at the club without my permission and were seen by another Dominant as well as staff and club members. I will warm you up with my hand, and then you will receive five swats with a large paddle. I want to warn you that I doubt you will make it through even one strike without crying. Tell me you understand." Lucius' blood was rushing heatedly through his veins in an odd combination of excitement and regret for what was to come.

There was a shaky exhale before a muffled, "I understand, Master," met his ears.

There was silence for a few moments and Hermione concentrated on her breathing. Now that she fully understood what her misconduct had meant to Lucius, she agreed that she deserved this punishment. However deserving she was, she could not dispel her nerves. She was half aroused by his commanding dominance, half terrified out of her mind. How bad was this going to hurt? She was pulled back to her Master when he started speaking again.

"I wish to remind you that your safewords are yellow and red. Move into the Wall position." Lucius did not watch her move. Instead he turned to the small rack of implements on the opposite side of the room and selected a long, flat, wooden paddle with a leather handle. _Quick, swift punishment. Five to eight seconds between each swat to let her catch her breath. This is her first big offense, she does not know what to expect. Keep your cool and watch her reactions._

Fleetingly he wondered why he wasn't more eager to do this. In the past, he had always looked forward to punishment scenes. They were few and far between and it wasn't often he was able to sate these darker urges. He was a fair Dom and only truly punished a submissive for mistakes he thought were justly deserving. The punishment for not paying attention on New Year's would be a walk in the park compared to the one she had coming now. It took a significant transgression for him to do a scene like this – public disrespect was a very serious offense in his book. _She deserves this, you're feeling reluctant because you have a soft spot for her. Buck up, old man._

He turned back to her and had to catch his breath. She looked stunning, her riotous curls spilled over her shoulders and upper back, ending just below her shoulder blades. She was wearing a thong, so he wouldn't have to remove her knickers, which was just as well. Her feet were hip width apart, and she was bent at the hips while supporting herself with her wrists crossed in front of her and her palms flat on the wall.

She was trembling like a leaf, and her curls were bouncing with the vibration of her body. He swallowed hard before approaching her. Lucius touched her lower back gently and her quaking stilled. It was the first time he had touched her since putting her in the corner and was all the comfort and reassurance he would allow her until the punishment was over. He gripped the paddle in his left hand and used his right to land the first spanking. A medium hit, he would turn her skin pink before using the paddle. Six smacks should be adequate. The breath she had been holding shuddered out by the time the third smack echoed in the otherwise silent room.

He stopped at six and stepped back. He would not soothe. That would be saved for the aftercare. "Prepare yourself Miss Granger. I will not ask you to count, you will most likely not be able to speak."

He heard her breath hitch. A cold sensation filled his gut, but he steeled himself and lined up the first swing.

_CRACK!_

It stole Hermione's breath completely. Thick, white heat lanced across her bum and she couldn't begin to think about doing anything – not breathing, not screaming, not crying. The silence in the room was shattering. After a full three seconds, a deep gasp of breath was forcibly sucked into her chest and tears sprung to her eyes. She clenched her teeth and carefully let the breath through her nose. The answer to her question was very much. It was going to hurt _very much_. She had no time for anything else before the next blow came.

_CRACK!_

A shriek left her involuntarily and the tears spilled over. She gasped on a sob desperately. _Holy fuck!_ was the only coherent thought that left her. She had never thought it would be like this…never thought it would be this bad. It was worse than Snape's cane. He let her take one more breath.

_CRACK!_

This time, she broke. A deep, guttural moan left her, and she began to blubber in earnest, mucous mixing with the tears on her face. _How many was that?_ It felt like a million.

 _Maybe I should safeword?_ The pain of the paddle was horrendous. It covered every inch of her bum and her sit bones were on fire, but she wanted to atone for her mistake. After he had explained why she was to be punished, she had certainly felt guilty. As a submissive, she deserved this punishment; as per their contract, he had every right to dole it out. _No, I will not safeword._ She gasped sobs out, once, twice, thrice…

_CRACK!_

"Ahh!" she bawled, and her knees buckled. Her body automatically tried to protect itself. She couldn't control her breath, she was suffocating on her own secretions.

"Straighten yourself immediately!" Lucius' command was harsh, and his tone was thick. She complied like a child being scolded by a parent, quickly straightening her legs. She was trembling violently. "Last one, Miss Granger." It was all the warning she got before the last, and hardest strike landed.

_CRACK!_

She cried out harshly, her throat raw from the tears and the exclamations. Collapsing against the wall for support, sobs wracked her body and the only thing she could think of was to desperately spew, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" There was a clatter and then Lucius was pulling her into his arms, wrapping her tightly into his embrace.

* * *

_CRACK!_

After the first hit, the silence in the room was shattering and Lucius held his breath, waiting for her reaction. After three full seconds she pulled in a sharp breath. _Next will be the tears_ , he thought. When nothing but a slow, controlled breath left the girl after a few seconds more, immense pride filled him. She was starting strong – he had every right to be proud of her. He knew what the paddle felt like – a good Dom would never use something they, themselves, had not experienced. A burn of desire filled him. _Keep moving, Luc._ He pulled his arm back and swung.

_CRACK!_

The blow reverberated up his arm satisfyingly, flaming the lust until a shriek left her tiny body followed by a strangled sob. Instantly all inclinations of desire were doused with a bucket of cold water. He paused for a short moment in confusion before his mind raced, _She's had enough time to breathe, just get this done, Luc._

_CRACK!_

The sound of pain that left her almost made him drop the paddle. What the hell was wrong with him? He'd heard these sounds before. This wasn't a new experience for him. Just because she was crying and in pain did not mean she wasn't just fine. She had agreed to the punishment. She had not safeworded. He listened to her gasping sobs and struggled to take his eyes off her fingers which were digging into the wall. Her knuckles were white. He shook his head…one…two…three.

_CRACK!_

"Ahh!" she bawled, and her knees buckled. Lucius started and pulled back, his free hand coming up to cover his mouth. Nausea flooded his stomach. Perhaps this hadn't been necessary. He should have only done three strikes. _One left, Luc. Get her up. She's doing very well – even if you're having a hard time handling it._

"Straighten yourself immediately!" he commanded. It came out much more harshly than he had intended. _Fuck._ He needed this to be over. The fact that he didn't want to continue appalled him. What had this little slip of a girl done to him?

"Last one, Miss Granger," he choked out. Swinging back, he landed the last and hardest blow of the night.

_CRACK!_

Apparently knowing it had been the last strike caused Hermione's composure to crumble completely. He was horrified when she collapsed against the wall and started to sob uncontrollably. When her desperate apology spilled from her lips, broken with hiccups and gasping breaths, he dropped the paddle as if it had burned him. What on earth had he just done? Confusion and anguish clawed at him as he pulled the shaking girl into his arms.

Lucius scooped his tiny, broken submissive into his hold while he fought his own despair. He was completely sure that was the hardest thing he had ever done in his entire life. The relief and pride that flooded him when she curled into him, clutching his shirt, and sobbing into his chest was palpable. There was always that chance that a first, true punishment would push a new sub into a full rejection of the Dom who had dealt it. For all he knew, she could still change her mind. She could go home and think the whole thing through and decide this particular game was not for her.

"You did incredibly, love," he whispered into her hair as he carried her to the couch. He set her gingerly on her feet before sitting and indicating for her to straddle his lap, she would not want to put pressure on her bum. Hermione crawled into his lap, tears still punctuated by quivering gasps and choked sobs. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck. Lucius held her tight with one arm while brushing her hair with the opposite hand, continuing to praise her bravery and acceptance. Eventually, her sobs turned to sniffles and she relaxed completely into him. The fingers of her left hand started rubbing little circles over his silk dress shirt just under his collar bone, almost as if she were trying to soothe _him_. When she was completely still and breathing evenly, Lucius pulled out a monogrammed handkerchief and gestured for her to take it.

Hermione sat up carefully, her bum in the space between his knees while she cleaned her face and blew her nose. Lucius used his wand to clean the handkerchief before tucking it back into his pocket. He turned his wand to her, clearing her face and running it along her nose to unplug her nasal passages before cleaning her tears from his neck and shirt. He summoned a bottle of water from the cabinet and opened it for her.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered. She drank gratefully, but never raised her eyes to meet his.

"Look at me, love," he said gently after a letting her sip her water for a while. She raised her amber eyes to his and his heart sank. They were so sad, and her lower lip started to tremble again.

"Hey now." Lucius carefully cupped her face between his hands. "It's over." His thumb smoothed away a tear that slid down her right cheek. "You were perfect."

"I'm so sorry," she whispered for what seemed like the millionth time. She leaned into his hand, nuzzling her face into his touch. "I never want to disrespect you. I have nothing but respect for you."

"I know. You are forgiven, Doll," he murmured back, drawing her in for a gentle kiss to her lips.

She kissed him back chastely and closed her eyes when he brushed gentle kisses over her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. When he pulled away to stare at her, she gave him a watery smile before curling back into him.

He held her a few moments longer, continuing to run his fingers over her hair and down her back. He could tell she was starting to get sleepy, and he needed to care for her bum and get her home before he let her sleep. "Doll, I'd like you to move and lay over my lap, I'm going to heal your bum."

She stiffened slightly before pulling back to look at him with large, incredulous eyes. "You most certainly are not." Lucius' eyebrows shot up, her words and tone shocking him. Sheepishly, she bit her lip. "That was really sassy," she said softly. "I apologize, Master. I should have said that I do not wish for my bum to be healed. I earned this punishment, and I will see it through to the end. It will heal naturally, if that is all right by you."

Lucius wasn't sure if his chest hurt from regret or pride. Her face was set with determination and her lips were pulled into a tight line. It was obvious she was completely serious. "I would not demand that of you," he told her softly. "You took your punishment admirably, and I will heal it for you. You are not required to be in pain for days for your transgression. You are forgiven; now we move on."

"And if I want this? Do I have to be healed?" Hermione's voice was soft, unsure. "Is there something wrong with me, that I don't want to be healed?

Lucius blinked at her, dumbfounded. He had never had a sub _not_ want to be healed after a severe punishment. This would change her aftercare exponentially. "You do not have to be healed, if that's what you truly wish," he said slowly. "There is nothing wrong with you, Hermione. Many submissives enjoy the infliction of pain. Can you tell me why you do not wish for me to heal you?"

"I deserved this punishment," she said softly, her voice hitching a little bit. "I feel guilty, and I wish to heal naturally to remind myself that I have been forgiven for my disobedience."

Lucius' heart swelled and started pound erratically. He reached for her with both hands and cupped her head, bringing her forward to settle his forehead against hers before closing his eyes and brushing a light kiss to the bridge of her nose. He had so much he wanted to say to her that he couldn't. How perfect she was for him, how much he never wanted to be without her again. How he had been waiting for almost nine years to find a woman like her. No – his whole life. Even if he would have never given her a second glance in his youth because of her blood status, she was perfection personified.

He had loved Narcissa, yes. Lucius would not trade his years with Narcissa for anything, but Narcissa had not fulfilled all his needs. Now there was a witch who could be the complete and total package. Hermione was intelligent, beautiful, poised, and…submissive. The fact that he wasn't allowed to keep her was abhorrent. Devastating. Never in his life had he felt like crying as much as he did at this moment.

Finally, he spoke. "You will allow me to take you home and comfort you before putting you to bed, that will be my compromise."

"I accept your compromise, Master."

He smiled sadly as he pulled back just enough to press a kiss to the middle of her forehead. "Let's get you home."

* * *

The hot water soothed not only her skin but caused the tension of the last couple of hours to slowly seep out of her muscles.

"That's it, my dear, lay back. Try to relax." His voice was gentle, his demeanor almost apologetic.

Lucius' heart clenched as he watched her, and he had to choke back his own emotion as her soft doe eyes looked up at him, still tinted with the moisture from her tears of pain. Twice more he had attempted to convince her to allow him to heal her bum. Especially after witnessing the stiff way she was moving and the tears that seemed a permanent fixture in her eyes. The Apparition to the approved point nearest her flat had caused her extreme discomfort and the walk to her building had been painfully slow.

Hermione lived in Muggle-London, in Moorgate near Liverpool. Her building was a multistory high rise that left Lucius feeling completely out of his element. It was a cute little one bed, one bath flat that had shelves stuffed with books and walls covered with photographs. It screamed Hermione Granger to the nines.

"Master, I want to talk to Lucius. Is that possible?"

"Of course, I'm here, love. It's just you and me. Talk to me, please."

"I…I didn't like being punished."

He was rubbing the flannel over her shoulder and down her arm. He had to stifle an ironic snort of mirthless laughter. "No, I don't imagine you did."

She grabbed his hand and squeezed it, causing his eyes to shoot to hers. "No, you don't understand. I don't know if that's something I can go through again."

Lucius just watched her, the ramifications of her words slowly sinking in.

"Is that…is that something a lot of Dominants need? To punish so…harshly?" Lucius felt his heart start to race as incredible guilt flooded his senses. He was trying to wrap his head around how he felt and get his words together when she continued. "Is that something…" her voice became small "…you enjoy?"

He let out a heavy sigh, his voice very quiet. "I used to. I used to enjoy it very much. But tonight," he paused to swallow hard, "tonight it was…difficult. Hurting you in such a way. I don't know that I could do that to you again."

"Am I weak? Is that why?"

"No, Hermione. Don't ever think that! You are very strong, and you are such a natural submissive. You're perfect," he insisted. He tried to calm the trembling of his body, terrified he had pushed her away from this world with only one punishment.

"Well, clearly I'm not perfect. If I were perfect, I wouldn't have screwed up." Her tone was sardonic.

"All submissives are destined to screw up at some point…and frankly, so are Dominants. We aren't perfect either, you know," he said ironically.

"You are," she said simply.

"If I were perfect you wouldn't be doubting yourself right now." He watched her for a moment and then leaned in to kiss her forehead tenderly. "We can take such intense punishments off the table. There are other ways to…encourage or enforce behaviors. Before we do that, though, I wish to discuss what happened, tonight."

"Okay," she agreed amicably.

"I want you to realize that, for me, punishments like this are few and far between. They are something that happens for a major reason. They are used to correct disobedience and disrespectful behavior. You told me that you felt you deserved this punishment, did you mean that?"

"Yes, I did," she said quietly. "I didn't agree with you at first, but once you explained to me what my actions meant to you and what they showcased to other people, I understood. It's why I took the punishment without further protest."

"That is excellent submissive reasoning, Hermione," Lucius replied with a shaky breath. "Your instincts are so natural, love. I will urge you to continue to follow them." There was a short pause before he spoke again. "If you felt the punishment was deserved, would you submit to something like this again? Knowing what you know now – that they are only used for major transgressions, that there will always be a discussion before hand to make sure all parties are on the same page – would you consent?"

After a long deliberation, Hermione answered. "If it was necessary to please my Master, and he and I had the trust that you and I do…? Then, yes. I guess I would." She looked confused.

"Why do you look uncertain?" he questioned.

"I don't understand why I feel like this." She looked up at him, her eyes wide with her hesitation. "I didn't like it – I swear. Why would I be willing to do it again?"

"I know you didn't, love." He ran the flannel up her arms. "It's part of your submissive persona, I think. You have a need to please your Master, and if you feel your punishment is deserved you would take it no matter how much you didn't want to. It's a very natural instinct for this lifestyle. There is _nothing_ wrong with you, Hermione."

He continued to move his fingers over her bare skin in a soothing manner.

"Lucius?" she murmured after another bought of comforting silence.

"Yes, pet?"

"I'm really _am_ sorry. I have never _not_ consoled a friend in need. It was just instinct. He needed to be held and I held him. He felt better, and I felt better for him."

"I know, love," Lucius reassured her. "You are forgiven, my dear. Please know that in your heart. I am not upset with you any longer."

More time passed, and she asked again, "Lucius?"

"Yes, pet."

"I can't promise that I wouldn't do the same thing all over again."

Lucius' eyes flew to hers, searching her face. Was she teasing him? After all they had gone through tonight, she would admit that she might break his rules again? Was she serious?! He took in her face, it was set – she was not kidding him.

"Why would you say that, Doll?" he couldn't help his offended tone.

"I don't wish to upset you, that is not my intention. I understand the importance of following your rules and will willingly submit to those rules. I would like to talk about the rule that led to what transpired this evening, however. Because as of tonight, I no longer agree with this rule and don't think I would be able to follow it in the future should an occasion arise where I would need to touch someone," she answered calmly. "I wish to come to a compromise, Master."

"And if I say there is no compromise?" Lucius' tone had become threatening. Apparently, they were back to being Master and Doll.

"Then I have to respectfully say that I will most likely not be able to abide by the rule if a situation were to arise that would warrant touch and you are not available to give me permission." The stormy expression that crossed Lucius' face made Hermione pause before she hastened to add, "I would submit for punishment if you deemed it necessary – which I really would not want to do." Her voice trembled with obvious nerves, it was very apparent that this idea did not excite her. Lucius found it did not thrill him, either. He let out a long-suffering sigh.

"What is your compromise, pet?" he asked gruffly. She shifted in the water and he grimaced when a flash of pain crossed her face.

"I wish to be given a short list of people that it's okay for me to touch when you are not with me. Etan, Rose, Jonathan, Draco, maybe Clarise? Of course, it would never be in a sexual or submissive nature." She paused briefly before adding, "And if there is an emergent situation where I could be of use, I don't want to have to ask permission."

Hermione watched as his face clouded over. He had been living in this world a long time and she was challenging his judgement. It was not a surprise he did not like it. He was probably not used to being second-guessed.

"I will think on this and we will talk more on Sunday," he said finally.

"Thank you, Master," she returned acceptingly. It was a more than fair statement.

"Do you have pain potion somewhere?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," she pointed, "in the cupboard above the loo. They're home brewed, blue vial."

"Can you stand?" He requested as he moved to find the aforementioned potion.

"Yes, Master." Gingerly, stiffly, she pushed herself to stand.

Lucius dug in the cupboard and found a pain potion and a calming cream. They would work perfectly.

He helped her dry herself carefully with a thick, lavender colored towel and watched her swallow the potion before he led her to her bed. "Do your journal in the morning," he directed as he assisted her in lying down on her stomach in her large bed.

"Yes, Master. Thank you." She sighed as she got comfortable.

"I found some lotion, and I would like to smooth it onto your backside," he told her gently. "Do you have any objections?"

"No, Master. That would be lovely."

Carefully he settled next to her on the bed and gathered some cream onto his finger tips before smoothing it tenderly over her now obviously bruised bum. In the past, he had always found the marks he left on his submissives stimulating. They were proof of his power over them, proof that they accepted his Dominance and that they were willing to bend to his command.

He regarded the marks he left on Hermione with an odd mixture of guilt and appreciation. He felt guilty for the anguish he caused her, but he could not deny that her acceptance of the punishment was a massive turn on for him. The marks she insisted on keeping pleased him deeply, and they were beautiful. That she was willing to suffer for days to remind herself that he had forgiven her for her mistake – there were no words. He capped the lotion after a few moments and stood to set it on her nightstand along with another vial of pain potion. "Take that when you wake in the morning, pet," he directed kindly. "Continue to take mild pain potions until you are more comfortable. If you changed your mind and decide you want to be healed, I wish to do it."

She craned her neck, so she could bestow a soft smile on him. "I will take the pain potion, Master, but I will not change my mind about wanting to be healed."

Unable to help himself, he leaned down and pressed an affectionate kiss to the top of her head. She turned onto her side and reached for him. He sat next to her with a questioning look. "Kiss me, please, Master?" she requested sweetly.

Lucius could do nothing but comply, dropping his lips to hers in a series of sweet, heart wrenching kisses. "Will you stay until I fall asleep?" she asked shyly when they had parted. "You can use my floo to go back to the Manor." They both knew this was request number three but what she didn't know is that he would refuse her nothing this night. Not after how incredible she had been.

"Of course, I will." Lucius settled carefully next to her, dropping his hand to Hermione's hair, and brushing her temple soothingly with his thumb. They spoke no more, and it was only minutes later that her breathing changed. He studied her profile: her sweet, up-turned nose, her high brow line, and the smattering of freckled across her cheeks and nose – it had all become dear to him in such a short amount of time.

Lucius moved his hand away from her, waiting to see if Hermione would stir. She didn't, and reluctantly he pushed himself up to stand. "Goodnight, love," he whispered before awkwardly turning off her bedside light. The room plunged into darkness, only the light from the lounge spilled through her cracked bedroom door, throwing her face into shadows. Without another word, he took his leave.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

* * *

  **Chapter Twenty-One **

* * *

Dear Miss Granger,

If it will work for you, I would like to retrieve you from your home for dinner at 6:45 this evening. Please let me know your thoughts and your address. Casual attire would be appropriate. If you are so inclined, I would like to walk out doors a bit, as well. Warm outerwear would be required, of course.

Sincerely,  
Severus Snape

* * *

Dear Severus,

6:45 this evening works perfectly, and a walk outside sounds lovely. I will be prepared. I live in Muggle-London. The Apparition point is in Speed Garden, you’ll cross Silk Street and walk up Milton Street to Milton Court. Address added below. Please buzz flat 8C so I can let you up. If I don’t hear from you again, I’ll expect my suggestions are acceptable.  
  
I’m very much looking forward to tonight, Severus.  
  
Affectionately,  
Hermione  
  
22 Beaufort Court  
Admirals Way, Canary Wharf  
London, E14 9XL

* * *

 

Hermione was mid-cooldown stretch when the floo lit up with green light and made a rumbling sound. Realizing someone was coming, she stood and grabbed the remote. Just as she pushed pause, her best friends stumbled through – Harry just before Ron. The boys brushed themselves off as Hermione grabbed her hand towel and wiped the sweat from her face, neck, and arms. Ron’s eyebrows reached for the ceiling as his chin dropped to the floor at the sight of her. His eyes roved up and down her body, clad in muggle workout attire, lingering a bit inappropriately on her chest.

Hermione threw her towel, hitting him in the face. “Really, Ron! It’s nothing you’ve never seen before. Honestly!”

Ron let out a slow breath and looked to the bookshelves as he smiled and rubbed the back of his head. “Geez, Hermione! Give a bloke some warning will ya?” Hermione laughed, and Harry rolled his eyes, clearly less affected by seeing Hermione in a sports bra and yoga shorts.

Grabbing her water bottle and taking a large swallow, Hermione recalled it was the middle of a work day and this visit was highly unusual. “So, what’s up? Coming by to ask me to lunch?”

Harry looked slightly uncomfortable as he shot Ron a quick glance before looking back at Hermione. Hermione cocked a signature Slytherin brow as an innocent expression washed over Harry’s deceiving be-speckled face. “Actually, we just wanted to stop by and say hello. Ya know, we haven’t seen you since Christmas…and you blew us off for New Year’s.”

Hermione walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on, raising her voice so she could be heard. “I didn’t _blow you off_. I merely had other plans and I’m thrilled to see you! I’m always happy to see my two best friends.”

She walked back into the living room to find her friends looking at each other, a silent communication taking place between them. When they both looked at her with matching innocent smiles, the gig was up. “Ok, enough. What’s going on?” she demanded.

Ron’s voice, a bit higher pitched than normal, squeaked out an innocent, “Nothing! Can’t we just stop by to say hello?”

Hermione crossed her arms, not being one to suffer fools gladly. “Do you really think that after almost twenty years of being your best friend, I can’t tell when you two have something on your minds?” The boys shot each other nervous glances and Hermione looked to Harry expectantly.

She could actually see him give himself a pep talk before he spoke. He walked towards the sofa and took a seat. “Well, we heard a rumor about you, and if it’s true we felt that as your friends, we should talk to you about it.”

Hermione gingerly rested her sore bottom on the chair facing him with as much poise and calm as possible. She could feel the blood drain from her face while internally her heart started pounding as heat flooded to her ears. _They know! They know I’ve been going to The Dungeon and they know what I’ve been doing there._ She was completely unprepared for this conversation and her mind raced with how to respond.

Clearly losing his patience and wanting to know if it was true, Ron interjected, “We heard a rumor that you are dating Snape.”

There was an awkward silence as Hermione absorbed what he had asked. She felt instant, beloved relief and the giddiness of not having her greatest secret revealed left her feeling light as a feather. She couldn’t contain a chuckle that led into a full-blown laugh. A laugh and feeling of mirth that somehow wasn’t hindered by her frustration with her blabber-mouthed friend, Ginny Weasley!

Ron let out a loud sigh of relief. “Thank Merlin!” He collapsed on the sofa next to Harry and playfully slapped him on the arm. “See, I told you she would laugh at the ridiculousness of it! I knew Ginny was taking the Mickey on you.”

Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I can’t believe she did this to me. I might have to _spank_ her for this prank! I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

“Oi! That’s my sister you’re talking about, you perv.”

Suddenly, feeling like she was in an alternate universe, Hermione had a vision of Ginny bent over Harry’s lap as he rained deserved smacks on her bare bottom. Smacks that frankly Hermione herself would like to deliver. A nice introduction to the cane and little miss blabbermouth would never blabber again. _Maybe I do have a touch of Top in me_ , she mused before dismissing it entirely.  Focusing back on her friends, Hermione contemplated how to proceed. “Uh, boys. I wasn’t laughing because of the absurdity of dating Severus Snape. I was laughing at _your_ absurdity.”

Harry froze, peeking at her between his fingers as Ron went completely pale. The whisper could barely be deciphered as it left Ron’s lips. “Wait, what?”

Hermione’s tone was a touch incredulous, realizing this was her best approach. “What is wrong with Severus Snape?” She looked at Harry, pointedly. “You named your son after the man!”

Ron’s mouth was gaping open like a fish. “Wait, wait, wait, wait…Hermione, for the love of Morgana, a straight answer, please!”

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh as she shook her head. “Yes, I have a date with Severus…tonight.”

Harry’s hand dropped to his lap. “Why… _How?_ I mean I, that is _we_ , really want to see you happy, Mione. And we know things haven’t been the easiest for you, you know, on the dating front, but Snape?”

Ron leaned forward. “Look, we know the man’s a hero and we respect the hell out of what he’s done, but he doesn’t seem like dating material. At least not for you!”

Harry looked contemplative, “Yeah, Morticia Adams…Joan Jett, or even Chrissie Hynde, but not Hermione Granger.” Visions of the female rock legends danced in her head and she smiled at the subtle nudge at her and Harry’s shared Muggle upbringing. It was a singular connection that Hermione and Harry enjoyed, a connection that their other close friends would never understand.

Ron shot Harry a confused look before he turned back at Hermione, a touch of desperation to his face. “Look, I _know_ you. I know what you need to be happy. You need a man who will _talk_ to you, treat you with affection and tenderness. A man who likes to talk about books and stuff…and frankly, a man who will let you rule the roost, so to speak.” He shook his head. “I don’t think Snape is that man, Mione.”

She shook her head with bemusement, trying not to laugh. “Oh, Ron.” Letting out a heavy sigh, Hermione threw down the gauntlet. Her tone was factual and no-nonsense. “Here’s the deal. I don’t really know Severus and the simple truth is you don’t either! When we knew him, he was our teacher and was living a precarious and impossible life as a double agent. Now, he’s free of all that and we are all adults!” Her gaze landed on Harry as she continued. “What I do know about him warrants further exploration. He’s insanely smart, he’s honorable, he’s mysterious, he’s sexy, and he has a voice that makes me want to howl at the moon.”

Hermione was about to continue but paused at the frozen look of incredulity on their faces. Looks of incredulity that morphed to a look of pity on Harry’s face and a look of nausea on Ron’s. Ron swallowed heavily, whispering sideways to Harry. “It’s _so_ much worse than we thought… Should I floo St. Mungo’s?”

* * *

As Hermione put the finishing touching on her make up that evening, she replayed her audacious conversation with her best friends that afternoon in her mind. She had to try and not laugh out loud as to not smear her mascara as she remembered abruptly kicking them out after St. Mungo’s was mentioned. She promised them she would be careful and owl them over the weekend to let them both know how the date had gone. _Idiots_ , she thought lovingly just as her buzzer rang. Butterflies exploded in her stomach as she dashed across her apartment.

Snape knocked lightly on her door only a few moments after she buzzed him up. He was precisely on time, of course. Punctuality was important. He was also very nervous, which was a highly unusual emotion for him.

“I’ll be right there!” Hermione’s voice could be heard from behind the door. A few seconds later, she pulled the it open with a wide smile on her face. That smile, the one he had wished she would bestow on him only weeks before, beamed brightly because of _his_ arrival. He let his lips twitch in greeting.

“Good evening, Miss Granger.” His deep baritone rolled through the silence of the room and he was amused to see her eyes go a little glassy and her expression become distant for a second. Even more pleasing was how the air crackled around them. Whatever this attraction was, it was still as intense as the very first day they had rekindled their acquaintance.

Hermione felt an actual change in the atmosphere the minute the wizard entered her apartment, almost like an electric pulse. Then again, the man always did know how to make an entrance. Dressed in his usual black, Hermione noticed the touch of aubergine from the scarf tucked into his cloak and found the color suited him very well. Even more noticeable was the fact that his hair fell to his jaw. It wasn’t more than two months ago it had been cropped short. She’d have to ask him about that, later. She found she preferred it long and was glad he was growing it back out – obviously using magic to help it along.

“Hello, Severus! Please come in.” She pulled the door wide and gestured for him to enter. Snape stepped in around her, scanning the space. The flat was nice, but not as extravagant as he expected someone of her means to live in. The white walls were covered with photographs and there were dark, built-in bookshelves that took up two solid walls, all of which were crammed with books. The floor was a black granite and was covered by a large black and grey area rug that provided warmth. A white leather davenport, where one end extended out like a chaise lounge, took up a large portion of the space and a cute little lavender chair that was oddly shaped sat next to it. He turned back to the young woman who was watching him take in her space.

“It’s not much,” she shrugged with a small smile, “but it’s just me, and it’s home. So, it’s enough. I don’t spend a lot of time here.”

“It’s lovely,” he assured her. “I brought this for you.”

Snape watched with satisfaction as her eyes widened and her lips parted in surprise as he held out the long-stemmed flower. “Is that…” She trailed off as she reached for it. “An asphodelus? Is it magical?”

“It is,” Severus replied, pleased. He wasn’t surprised she recognized the blood red flower. “It’s a Nocturnal Asphodelus, I have been experimenting with these flowers for the last couple of years, their magical properties are quite vast. This one has been bred for its healing benefits. When dark, it emanates a very low glow and releases a healing tranquility into the air. If cared for appropriately, it will last months.”

“It’s beautiful, Severus,” she whispered, bringing the bloom to her nose. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he assured her. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small paper package. “Room temperature water and a teaspoon of powdered snake weed each week will keep it healthy. Here is some snakeweed to get you started.”

Hermione took the package, looking at him shyly from under her lashes. “Thank you,” she said again. “I have just the vase. Please make yourself comfortable. I’ll get this in water and then I just have to put on shoes. I’ll be right back.”

Snape watched her disappear into the kitchen, unable to keep his eyes from watching the sway of her hips and the roundness of her bum encased in denim. He heard her rummaging around in her cupboards.

“You have quite the book collection, Miss Granger.” Snape raised his voice, so she could hear him after perusing her collection for a few minutes. Making small talk was something that had always been painful for him. He hoped they’d fall into easy conversation quickly enough. “Though I’m hardly surprised.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t be.” Hermione let out a husky laugh and he looked away from the bookshelves to see her leaning up against the jamb of a doorway.

Snape couldn’t help but let his eyes trail down her petite form once again. She looked lovely. Casual for her was still quite sexy in his opinion. She wore a cable knit sweater that looked like she had wrapped herself into it. The deep cerulean blue color looked stunning against the tone of her skin, and there were two black wooden buttons that drew attention to her subtle cleavage. Her thick, curly hair was loose and fell down her back and over her shoulders. She had on a pair of dark blue jeans that were almost completely obscured by her “shoes” – a pair of black suede boots that ended two inches above her knee and hugged the curve of her leg. He swallowed before meeting her eyes.

“You look beautiful tonight, Miss Granger,” he drawled.

A lovely flush rose to her cheeks and she dropped her eyes. “Hermione,” she said. “Please call me Hermione. And thank you, you look very handsome, yourself.” Her voice was trembling.

Severus couldn’t help but wonder if she was as nervous as he was, even as he internally scoffed at the word handsome.  “It’s nice of you to say so, Hermione.” Saying her given name was still very much a novelty for him. Had he ever actually said it to her face before? He wasn’t sure. “Are you ready to go? We have reservations for seven fifteen.”

“Yes, of course!” She pushed herself away from the wall and gathered her cloak and purse.

They arrived at what Hermione guessed was the nearest Apparition point to restaurant he had chosen after a short walk back to Speed Garden. She couldn’t help but muse that their silence was…a bit uncomfortable. She wasn’t disappointed, though. They had the whole evening ahead of them and things were bound to be a bit awkward. _For pity sake, you slept with the man before even knowing what his middle name was… Fuck, you don’t know Lucius’ middle name either!_ She shook her head at her internal conundrum. _Time to start getting to know your sexual partners, Hermione. Since when have you been a total slag? You’ve been a bit of a slag for years – but not a total slag._ She snorted.

“Care to share what’s amusing you so?” Snape’s voice was a lazy drawl that sounded both guarded and curious.

“Ha,” she let out a dry laugh. “I’m just berating myself.”

“About…?”

Without asking, nor with any warning, Snape took her hand in his and looped it through his elbow. This pulled her closer to him and suddenly, she was utterly at ease. She leaned into him slightly as he continued to direct their stroll to the restaurant. She was starving and hoped it wasn’t too far.

“Well, it’s a bit crass, but if you really want to know…?” She trailed off, then continued when he nodded. “I was musing that this was starting off awkward.” She quickly continued when Snape’s face fell slightly. “No, no. I’m awkward – you’ve been perfect,” she assured him. He let out a low chuckle.

“Oh, Gods,” she laughed. “I’m making it worse. Okay – we’ve known each other for years and years, but we don’t _know_ each other,” she paused, and he nodded again. “I was just thinking we did this backwards, you know? Falling into bed before I even asked you what your middle name was. I’ve never gone to bed with someone before knowing their middle name.”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “Is that your only prerequisite, Mis – Hermione?” She let out a little giggle when he caught himself on her name.

“Of course not.” She could feel a blush rise to her cheeks. “Apparently, it’s not something that’s necessary at all anymore. I realized I don’t know Lucius’ middle name either.” She snorted, it was so very un-ladylike, and her cheeks grew hotter.

“Ah,” he smirked at her when she looked up at him. “Do you feel your morals are a little loose these days?” he teased gently.

She couldn’t stop the surprised guffaw when he caught on so quickly. “A bit, I guess. I’m having too much fun to care, though. Well, to care too much.”

They dropped into a comfortable silence and continued their brisk walk. Hermione side stepped just a bit to press herself closer to him and wrapped her other hand around his elbow, as well. Snape smiled down at her when she looked up, his eyes were lit with...satisfaction? Contentment? Whatever it was, it made her breath catch.

“Tobias,” he said softly.

Hermione’s brow crinkled in question. “I’m sorry?”

That sexy smirk curved his mouth again. “My middle name is Tobias.”

“Oh! Oh, I like that very much.” She paused before trying it out. “Severus Tobias Snape. That’s very nice.”

Snape gave a bit of a sarcastic grunt.

“What?” she asked. “You don’t like your middle name?”

“Well, it was my father’s name,” he explained. She noted the bitterness as his eyes rolled.

“You don’t have a good relationship with your father?” Hermione questioned.

“Let’s just say we _didn’t_ much care for each other. It no longer matters, he died many years ago. Ah – here we are.” Snape pointed across the street to a small bistro. This is when Hermione noted they were still in Muggle-London.

“There?” she was surprised.

“Yes,” he returned. Then his voice grew hesitant. “Do you like Italian? I should have asked, Hermione, I’m sorry.”

“No, no!” she said assuredly. “I love Italian – I’m just surprised we’re still in Muggle-London.”

“I see.” He visibly relaxed. “I thought that after you and Draco ended up on the front page of _The Broom Cupboard_ , you might like the anonymity?”

Her shoulders sagged with relief and she found herself oddly touched by his thoughtfulness. “That was very sweet of you,” she said kindly. She dropped his arm with one hand while sliding the other down to curl her fingers through his, effectively lacing their hands together.

The gesture seemed to bring Snape up short, and he looked down at their entwined fingers with an unreadable expression on his face. Finally, he said, “No one’s ever accused me of being sweet before.” She wasn’t sure if he was joking.

“Well, I’m not just anyone,” she said coquettishly, raising a brow.

They had reached the door by then. Not letting go of her hand, he opened it and used his chin to gesture her inside. “Indeed, you’re not,” Snape returned once they entered. He bent low, so he could murmur it quietly in her ear and found himself wickedly happy when the maneuver caused a visible shudder to run down her spine.

The teasing was double backed on him, however, and he found his placket tightening when she turned lust-darkened doe eyes on him. Snape’s heartbeat tripled at the sight and his gaze fell to her perfect lips. She recognized the gesture and gave a slight nod. Even though he knew he should wait (The kiss was supposed to come at the end of the night, right?) he couldn’t seem to help himself as he dropped a light, chaste kiss down on her upturned mouth.

They broke their gentle kiss when they heard someone clearing their throat. Looking up, they found the hostess smiling at them indulgently. “Do you have reservations?”

Snape gave a short cough before nodding. “Yes, two for Snape.”

She marked something on her clip board and then gestured for them to follow. “Right this way!”

Hermione loved the restaurant. It was absolutely perfect for a first date. Her eyes darted every which way as they followed the hostess, never letting the other’s hand go. The walls were brick and hung with portraits that had everything to do with wine and fat Italian chefs. There were wooden shelves laden with decorative bottles of oil and wine, and grapes. The lighting was low, and every table had a candlelit center piece encircled with grape vines. The tables were covered with white table clothes and red checkered overlays and set with forest-green plates and wine glasses. Dark green cushioned booths were set into the walls and Hermione was delighted when they were led to a tiny, two-person booth that was almost entirely secluded. It was shaped like a half circle and set into the brick wall. She gave a momentary pause when she saw it was not a comfortable green cushioned bench like the other booths, however. It was a thick wooden bench they would be sitting on.

 _Uh-oh, that wooden bench is not going to feel so good._ She felt a bit disheartened. How was she going to concentrate on conversation when her arse was going to feel like it was taking another beating?

Snape gave her a very dashing smile and gestured for her to slide into the booth first. She did hesitantly and carefully but was unable to stop the wince and soft hiss as her sore bum slid across the unforgiving surface.

Unmistakably there was a low chortle and then the seat beneath her bum grew squishy. Her eyes flew to meet his – _he had cast a wandless cushioning charm for me?_ Hermione knew she was blushing – _does he know about my punishment from last night?_ How mortifying.

He followed her into the booth, and they made themselves comfortable side-by-side while the hostess poured them iced water. “Wine?” she suggested.

“Red?” Snape asked Hermione with a raised brow. When she nodded, he continued, “Bottle of the 2008 Caparzo, please.”

“Very good, sir.” The hostess apparently approved, if her tone of voice was any indication. “Your waiter will be with you momentarily.”

“I am sorry about your backside, Miss Granger,” he said softly and the smirk on his face was devil-may-care. She pouted.

“How do you even know?” she muttered, a bit annoyed. Did Snape and Lucius share everything? She wanted to understand the depths of their friendship.

“How? I was the one who told Lucius, of course.” He said it like it was no passing matter which made Hermione’s instant anger bubble hot.

“You mean _you’re_ the reason my bum looks like I took a nasty spill on the ice?!” she snapped quietly, not wanting to draw any attention to them.

“No.” His tone had taken on a darker edge, but he was watching her face with kind eyes. “ _You_ are the reason your bum is bruised. You broke a rule, and you were caught and punished. However, I _am_ the one who told Lucius.

“There is something you should know about Luc and I, Hermione. We talk like brothers and pretty much tell each other everything. We watch out for and help each other monitor our affairs. This includes our interests around the club, submissives especially – collared or not.” Here he reached and gently brushed the silver chain of her collar which looked like a simple locket today. “My friendship with Lucius currently trumps our…burgeoning relationship.”

Hermione’s heart gave a painfully excited flip when he classified what they had as a relationship. Burgeoning or not – it excited her.

He continued, “However, even if we go in the direction I am hoping for…” He stopped talking and Hermione watched him curiously. He seemed to decide something before starting to talk again, his voice firm and sure. “The rules will be vastly different when we are together like we are now versus when we are…playing. When you are _my_ submissive – you will obey my rules at the club. And don’t think you can get away with any shenanigans. There are many people at The Dungeon who will watch you and report to me if you don’t behave. It’s a courtesy amongst most Dominants.”

She bristled at the word shenanigans, it did not describe her at all. “For the record, I wasn’t up to any _shenanigans_ , as you so eloquently put it. Jonathan was having a bad day and was in need of some comfort. I was just being a good friend. I have expressed to Lucius my displeasure about that rule – it is too broad. It needs to be narrowed down to more acceptable parameters. He is thinking about it.”

If Snape was surprised, he didn’t show it. “Be that as it may, you now are very aware of how the inter-workings of the club are handled. It’s too bad you had to learn the hard way.”

She understood what he was telling her – there was no “sneaking” at the club. _Not_ that she had been sneaking. What he was telling her, however, was that as a collared submissive she would be watched, and people would let her Dominant know if she misbehaved. That was … actually that was kind of terrifying. She would have to make sure she was always on her best behavior. However, the words that really played havoc with her psyche were “when you are _my_ submissive”. _Bloody buggering hell, I’m going to swoon. Did it get hot in here?_

“I understand,” she murmured after a few seconds. “I’m sorry if I came off a little hot headed, I’m not really mad at you. Especially now that a new dynamic of the club scene has been explained. I deserved the punishment I received. I guess I was more taken off guard that you would admit to being a tattletale.”

Snape’s hackles had risen immediately when her tone suggested she was upset with him. He had felt guilty enough about his decision to tell Lucius she had behaved indecently with Jonathan. Her being angry had brought that feeling back momentarily, even though he knew he had done the right thing. He was able to calm himself during his defense but relaxed completely when her teasing voice called him a tattletale. He wasn’t sure whether he should be affronted or find it funny. He chose the latter and gave her a small sneer of amusement.

“I’m not tattletale, Hermione,” he argued, leaning in so his breath tickled her hair. “I am a good friend and a good Dom. I am sorry he didn’t heal you, though. That’s odd for Lucius, he usually heals his subs after a severe punishment. All though he did warn me last night that you might have a sore bum for our date. Perhaps I shouldn’t be too surprised.”

They were interrupted for a moment when their waiter came with their bottle of wine. He pulled the cork and poured a bit for Snape to test. Snape gave his approval and their glasses were filled. “Are you ready to order?”

“A starter,” Snape answered. “We would like the vitello tonnato alla piemontese, fagiolini e capperi. We’ll order our meal when the starter comes out, we need more time to look at the menu.”

Hermione’s eyebrows shot up as the words were spoken without pause or hesitancy in his rich voice. The deluge to her knickers was almost instantaneous and she bit her lower lip. _Holy fuck, please talk to me in Italian all day and night,_ she begged silently. _I don’t have to understand – tell me about your dirty socks, for all I care._

When the waiter left, Snape returned them to their conversation. “Where were we?” he questioned before answering himself. “Ah, yes. I was surprised Lucius didn’t heal you.”

When she didn’t answer immediately, Snape moved his eyes from the menu he was still contemplating to her face. Her look was distant, and she was chewing on that delectable lower lip of hers. He almost growled and it took all his will power not to lean over and suck that lovely, pouty lip into his mouth. He closed his eyes for a moment _. Pull yourself together, Snape. You’re going to go slow with this one, there’s too much at stake._ “Hermione?” he probed.

“Huh? Oh, I’m sorry.” He was curious about the blush that rose to her face. “I didn’t hear what you asked.”

“Why didn’t Lucius heal you?” Snape watched as she took a large gulp of her wine.

“He wanted to, I wouldn’t let him,” she explained after she swallowed.

Snape almost choked on the sip of water he was taking. _What?!_ “Why ever not?”

She gave him a bashful look before turning her eyes down to the table. “After he explained what my transgression meant to him, I felt terribly guilty. I would never, ever purposefully disrespect someone that. I deserved the punishment I received, and I wish for the marks to heal on their own. I still feel guilty for my actions and the discomfort and bruising help remind me that I’ve been forgiven.”

The silence that fell between them was absolute. Snape felt like he had been sucker punched by her words – they were incredible. Dominants in the magical world often offered healing after significant punishment scenes, it was very rare for new or training submissives to opt for what Hermione had. Only more experienced subs tended to react this way, and even they were few and far between. “I am sure that pleased Lucius immensely,” Snape told her in a gruff voice.

Hermione searched his face, relieved to find him sincere. “It did,” she whispered before opening her menu. She paused momentarily in surprise, the entire thing was in Italian. While she spoke passable French and a little Russian (courtesy of Viktor Krumm), she knew little to no Italian. She raised her brows and turned to face him fully. “You speak Italian?” _Of course he does, you dolt. He just rattled off the starter with no problem._

“Fluently. My maternal Grandmother was Italian, and my mother’s Italian was better than her English,” he shared, not looking up from his menu.

Hermione closed her eyes, it was going to be a very long night if she had to listen to him speak much more Italian. “You’ll have to tell me what’s on the menu.”

He let out a low chuckled. “Would you object terribly if I ordered for you?”

Hermione paused. She wasn’t a picky eater, but there were certainly somethings she didn’t care for. “Uh, sure…?”

“You don’t sound so sure.” A full laugh left him that time and Hermione’s brain turned to mush. _Merlin’s pants, girl, pull yourself together!_

“Promise me a few things,” she said after taking a moment to clear her jumbled thoughts. He looked at her expectantly. “No squid or octopus, no raw meat, and nothing super spicy.”

“I can do that.” Snape looked utterly amused

Hermione’s ease continued to grow as they fell into easy conversation, she spoke briefly about Harry and the Weasleys while he elaborated on the Potions research he did on the side when the club wasn’t keeping his focus. They were interrupted by the waitress first taking their orders and a second time to deliver the roasted veal tonnato with green beans and caper berries. Each time they picked up their chatting right where they had left off, occasionally stopping to take bites of the appetizer (which was delectable). After a time, the conversation veered back to her friends and family. Being Snape had taught them all or served with them in the Order, it was a good common ground topic that he seemed comfortable enough with.

“They’re both pregnant? Luna and Ginny? At the same time?” Snape sounded a little queasy at the thought and Hermione snorted into her wine glass.

“They were pregnant with their first children at the same time, too. They’re tolerable until the last six weeks or so.” She laughed again. “To be honest, I can barely remember a time in the last seven years when at least one of the Weasley wives _wasn’t_ pregnant,” she scoffed, then gave a little wistful sigh. She wondered if she should ask him now, it was an appropriate segue. “Do you…” She whispered it, and then paused to take another sip of her wine. _Nope, too soon._ She wasn’t tipsy enough.

“Do I what?”

 _Crap, he heard that._ She steeled herself before looking him dead in the eye. “Do you want a family, Severus?”

She had to give him credit. He didn’t blanch; he didn’t even blink. He just took a deep breath and answered her. “I’ll be honest with you, until recently I hadn’t given it much thought.”

Silence. _Just ask!_ “And recently?” Hermione’s voice was very tiny, and she was holding her breath.

“Let’s just say I’ve met this witch who makes the idea very intriguing.” His tone was soft, and her heart fluttered madly when his hand slid gently over her thigh, resting just above the top of her boot.

“That was a very good answer,” she found herself murmuring, and then knew without a doubt her entire face was going crimson.

Merlin’s balls, she was beautiful. When she blushed like that, he just wanted to see how dark he could make it. He knew if he started any form of dirty talk, they’d both be a mess by the end of the evening, though. This wasn’t a D/s scenario, so any form of humiliation was out right now, as well. He needed to stay on safer topics. Not missing more than a beat, he returned the question. “Do you want a family?” He already knew she did, but he wanted to hear it straight from her.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “Very much so. I know this is a heavy topic for a first date, but I just had to know if it was something you were open to. I don’t want to waste your time.”

The conviction and certainty of her answer took Snape aback, but he had to admire her tenacity. Leave it to Hermione Granger to not want to waste more than one date with someone who might not want something she did.

“Tell me how your training is going,” Snape requested, smoothly shifting the topic of conversation.

“What do you already know?” Hermione asked, easily scooping up the last bite of their starter. She paused shortly before raising it to her mouth and offered it to him instead. He had to chuckle as he gestured for her to eat it. He appreciated her appetite, too many women he knew ate like birds.

“Luc’s been pretty quiet on the matter,” Snape waved his hand. “Which means he’s very pleased. I’d like to know your side of things.”

Just then the waitress arrived with their main dishes. A large shallow bowl of ravioli with a creamy sauce that was speckled with what she assumed were mushrooms was set in front of her, it looked amazing. She glanced to Severus’ plate to find maccheroncini with a ground meat sauce. His dish looked equally delicious, she wondered if he’d be willing to share.  

“What am I about to eat?” she questioned with a smile, waiting to resume their other topic of conversation after the waitress finished refilling their wine and water.

“Ricotta stuffed ravioli with a black truffle sauce,” he smirked. “Mine is a bolognese ragu. The food here is very good, quite authentic.”

She cut into her ravioli and was immediately bombarded with the rich taste of the garlic cream sauce and tang of the sharp, ricotta cheese. She hummed her approval while she watched Snape prepare his own first bite. They ate silently for a few minutes, it was only after the waitress had come and gone to leave a basket of buttery breadsticks and ask how their first few bites were that she felt safe answering his question.

“Lucius is a good teacher and he’s been patient. I believe I’ve learned all the positions he cares for me to know at this point. I’ve been taught how to behave in the club in so far as presenting myself, positioning myself, how I’m to address (or rather _not_ address) other people, how I’m to move through the club, etc.

“I’ve been briefed on orgasm denial – which was a very frustrating week,” Snape snickered, “and introduced lovingly to a flogger, a strap, the spreader bar, the strappado position, the ball gag, and some very arousing spankings. I’ve had one full suspension that was…wow. Really, there’s no other words. I’ve been not so lovingly introduced to a crop – for inattentiveness while at the club and not answering properly when back at the Manor on New Year’s when some dirty talk left me a bit speechless – but I think he was more amused then upset. I currently thoroughly dislike wooden paddles.” This caused another appreciative sound of mirth to leave her date. She raised an eyebrow and said in mock-seriousness. “I don’t think it’s funny.” Snape tried to school his features but was unsuccessful and then they were both laughing gently.

When they calmed, she continued, “More than anything, though, I’m learning a lot about myself. What I like and don’t like, how situations make me feel. The emotions involved can be very, very overwhelming.” She stopped talking while she took a few more bites, Snape waited for her to continue.

After she took a sip of wine to wash down her food she looked up and started speaking again. “I feel like a puzzle piece I didn’t know was missing has been found. Like this essential part of myself is finally being satisfied. It’s been a rocky road, but an extremely satisfying one. I know I’ve only really had three official ‘training’ sessions, but – it all feels right.”

Snape couldn’t help the excitement that was growing in him. It sounded like she truly believed this would be something she would continue with for many, many years. That was an important aspect in a potential partner for him. As much as Hermione may think she was the one conducting an … interview (for lack of a better word), he was doing the same as well. So far, it seemed they were both getting the answers they had hoped for. It was all made so much more satisfying by the continual presence of that intriguing electric current that connected them.

They ate quietly again for a while, and Snape could tell she was contemplating something. “Sickle for your thoughts?”

“Oh,” she seemed surprised and he watched her rip a piece from a breadstick and swirl it in her pasta sauce before letting it sit to soak in the flavors. “I have an odd question about Lucius, but I don’t wish for you to feel obligated to answer.”

“Well, spit it out,” Snape said shortly, and he grimaced. He couldn’t help it, he was a little disgruntled she was thinking about Lucius while sitting here with him.

“It’s actually something that has been bothering me for the last few days, but I didn’t feel comfortable asking Draco about it,” she started, seemingly ignoring his prickly tone. She popped the now soaked piece of bread into her mouth and chewed and swallowed thoughtfully before the words came out in a rush. “I spent the night with Lucius New Year’s,” she said quickly. “And in the morning, after breakfast but before I left, he was already drinking a glass of whiskey. It was barely noon. I just – I find myself concerned. So many of us who fought in the war struggle with different vices and coping mechanisms and...” She trailed off, her train of thought dissipating with the guarded look on Snape’s face.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, abashed. “I shouldn’t haven’t said anything, it’s an inappropriate turn of conversation. We should be getting to know each other. I shouldn’t be talking about Lucius.”

“No, Hermione.” Snape felt a twinge of guilt even as part of him warred with not only concern for his friend – he hadn’t seen the man drink before evening in years – but jealousy. She had stayed the _night_ with Lucius? And it caused Luc to have a drink before noon the next day?

Snape’s gut was screaming that his friend was getting in deeper than he had anticipated, which caused a weird combination of distrust and sadness in his heart. Shame came with the distrust. He wanted to trust Lucius – he _did_ trust Lucius – but if the Malfoy patriarch were to turn up the charm and fight for the chance to be with Miss Granger himself? Snape would lose. Hands down. The beauty and money of the Malfoy men always got the girl – he wasn’t stupid by any definition of the word. The sadness came from his worry for his friend. Deep down he knew Lucius would not do that to him, that his friend wanted him to be happy – thus, the worry. Lucius had lived the last almost nine years barely existing. Narcissa had meant the world to him, losing her had cost him a huge chunk of his heart. If anyone deserved the happiness a good woman could bring, it was Lucius.

Hermione watched Snape with wary eyes. Had she just fucked everything up? She shouldn’t have said anything. She should have talked to Draco instead. _Stupid, stupid witch,_ she berated herself. Horrified, she felt tears prickle her nose, her stomach dropped and the large dinner she had been enjoying immediately started to feel like a lead balloon in her stomach. He had been quiet far too long. She folded her hands in her lap and started twisting the napkin that was laying there.

“Severus?” she asked quietly after another moment, no longer able to stand the silence.

Snape seemed to pull himself back from somewhere far away. He took in her expression, she looked insanely worried and regretful and there was a sheen of what suspiciously looked like tears in her eyes. “I apologize, Hermione,” he answered gently. “I did not mean to upset you with my silence, I was just contemplating. You were right to bring this up, and I will talk to him. Your observation concerns me some, as well.”

Her shoulders sagged with relief even as a flash of worry crossed her face. “I’m sure it’s nothing to be overtly worried about,” Snape assured her. “I’ll talk with him though.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, reaching out to touch the side of his face. “You two are obviously very close. You’re lucky to have each other.”

Snape couldn’t help but lean into her touch. He wasn’t often touched like this, not in many years, anyway. It was nice to feel…cared for. He reached up to snatch her hand in his and pressed a soft kiss to her fingertips before letting her return to her meal. They continued in comfortable silence for a bit, and Snape was subtly amused to see her eyeing his plate.

“Would you like to try this?” he asked, raising a brow, and indicating his dish with a jerk of his head.

She laughed. “Am I that obvious?”

“Yes,” he teased, and she laughed again, “but I have to admit, I’d like to try yours, as well. That dish is new on the menu since I was here last, but this is my favorite. I haven’t been here in many months, so I couldn’t pass up ordering an old favorite.”

“Well, here!” She cut a ravioli, so it was more bite sized and placed the two halves on top of each other to stab with her fork. She raised the bite, cupping her other hand underneath to catch any sauce that may drip and held it out to him.

Smirking wickedly, he very slowly opened his mouth and allowed her to place the bite inside. It took effort not to laugh when her breathing shortened at the sensuality of the moment. It was almost too easy to rile her up. Snape pulled the bite off the utensil and closed his eyes. It was very good, and he let out an inarticulate noise of appreciation. The meatiness of the mushrooms really paired well with the sharpness of the cheese. When he swallowed and opened his eyes he found his curly-haired seductress staring at him with her mouth slightly ajar and her hands frozen in midair where she had served him the bite.

Snape glanced down to find a bit of the sauce had dripped into her hand. Without thinking, he grasped her wrist and pulled her soiled fingers to his lips, using his tongue to clean her skin.

“Unnnh.” Was the only sound that left her as her eyes grew exceptionally wide and her jaw opened further. He never removed his gaze from hers and his bloody cock sprang to attention so fast he was surprised the button was able to hold it back. The no sex part? That was going to fucking suck.

Hermione ceased breathing as his hot, wet tongue sucked her fingers. Was he trying to make her turn into a pile of goo? If he continued, she’d be utterly useless for the rest of the night. Between his mouth and that wicked smile that preceded his actions, she was a mess. He bloody well knew it, too.

Coming to her senses, she shook her head and tugged on her hand, so he’d release it. Face set with mock-indignation, she shook a finger at him. “You’re not helping the situation, here, _Professor_.”

For a second, he looked stunned by her scolding tone, his old moniker, and the finger wagging in his face, but then his eyes crinkled at the corners and he mused, “Ah, but you’re making it too easy, Miss Granger.” He winked. Fuck – he just _winked_? What the hell was she doing to him?

She laughed loudly and fully – from her belly. It made his toes curl and his grin broaden. “Come here,” he curled a finger at her and she slid over, eyes on his expectantly. He didn’t disappoint, dropping a kiss to her lips for the second time that evening. _First date etiquette – who bloody cares?_ he thought as his fingers skimmed her jaw. She pulled away with a happy smile on her face. He could hardly believe how easy the night had been so far. His joy rose further when, instead of scooting away from him again to return to her food, she pulled her plate and wine glass closer and stayed next to him letting her thigh rest against his own.

He switched his fork to his left hand and slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer while gathering a bite of his meal onto a fork for her to try. “No more funny business.” She grinned when he raised the bite to her lips.

“No promises.” Snape shot right back. Their banter was entertaining, he was having…fun. He slipped the forkful of pasta into Hermione’s mouth, watching with his cock straining against his trousers as she closed her full lips around it and – deliberately slowly – pulled back. Her lips curled up at the ends and her eyes were glowing. How in the world had he lived forty-six years without this feeling?

“Mm,” she hummed, lifting a finger to swipe away a bit of sauce from the corner of her mouth before using her napkin to clear it away. Pity – he would have taken care of that for her.

_Pull back on the reigns, man. You’re already going to have a massive case of blue bullocks at the end of this night._

“I can see why that’s a favorite,” she told him, then quickly switched topics. “Can you eat with your left hand?”

“I can, I’m very ambidextrous,” he admitted.

“Good.” She proceeded to shock him again, snuggling herself fully against his side to continue the meal. Snape had no objections.

They chatted about her work while they ate, and a little bit more about his Potions research. When their plates were cleared, they continued to sit comfortably in each other’s arms while sipping their wine. “Dessert?” he asked her.

“I’m stuffed,” she groaned lightly. “I couldn’t eat another bite. Another time?” Hopeful eyes sought him out.

“Most definitely,” he promised. “Are you still up for a walk? I know it’s dark and cold, but I enjoy walking outdoors after a large meal.”

She patted her bag, which was on her other side and nodded. “I brought my gear and we can cast warming charms if needed. I would very much enjoy a walk as well.” Reluctantly, she pulled away from him as he shifted.

“I’m just going to pay the bill,” he told her.

“Thank you for dinner, Severus. It was delicious – it’s nice to try new places.”

“I’m very happy you liked it.” His voice was sincere as he slid out of the booth and picked up the bill folder.

“I’m going to use the loo, I’ll meet you by the door?” she asked. Snape agreed, but couldn’t help watching her as she moved towards the bathrooms. Part of him felt the whole evening was too good to be true and he was worried she was going to disappear. A beautiful witch, wonderful conversation, a good meal, and a charged atmosphere – could anything be better?

The answer was no.

He paid the bill while she was in the loo, and in doing so noticed a small display of tiny bouquets behind the register. Daisies, aster, some long stemmed roses, but it was a bouquet of teacup roses in a sunset orange that caught his eye. They reminded him of her warmth and fire. “I’ll take that bunch of flowers there as well,” he told the woman who was helping him.

“Of course, sir,” the perky blonde answered, plucking them from the display and handing them to him. The whole bouquet was no larger than a Remembrall with a small bunch of stock stems tied with a white ribbon. He tucked it carefully out of sight and waited for Hermione to join him. She did after a few more minutes, pulling on gloves. She had her thick grey cloak on and buttoned over her outfit with a crimson scarf at her throat, her gloves and hat matched the scarf. What really set the ensemble off, however, was when she pulled the hood of the cloak up her face was trimmed in a lighter grey fur. He swallowed – certainly he was living some other man’s life tonight. What on earth did a woman twenty years his junior see in _him_?

“Ready?” she asked with an anticipatory smile.

“Yes,” he held out a gloved hand. Black, she noted, the same as the hat he wore. Literally the only pop of color was the deep purple of his scarf. She couldn’t help the twitch of a smile at one corner of her mouth. Hermione took his hand.

Ten minutes later they were strolling through St. James’s Park, after Apparating to the point just behind the public restroom by Marlborough gate. Once on the path, she spoke. “I’d like to play a game – if you’re up for it?”

He looked wary but nodded for her to continue.

“I’ll ask a question, you answer it, then I answer it. Then you ask the question. Simple, one-or-two-word answer questions.” It was basically an ice breaker game that she had participated in during her years at university and when she went to conferences, but it would be a good way to get to know each other.

He deliberated for only a moment. “Your favorite color?”

“Lavender.”

“Deep purple.”

His answer took her aback. She laughed. “I honestly thought you’d say ‘black’,” she mused. He grinned.

“That does seem to be the general consensus.”

“Favorite food?” It was her turn.

“Spaghetti.”

“Pizza.”

“Both Italian choices, excellent.” He released her hand and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side for the millionth time that evening. It seemed they could not get close enough to each other. She rested her head on his shoulder and looked over the water as they walked slowly. The evening was lovely – it was cold, in the negative single digits Celsius – but there was very little wind and the sky was clear.

“Favorite school subject?” He smirked.

“Charms,” she replied.

He pretended to be offended and sniffed. “Potions.” She laughed.

“Favorite flower?”

“Daffodils,” he answered without pause. She thought she might trip him up with that one. Men didn’t tend to think about flowers much.  
  
“Roses,” she answered, then gasped when a small bouquet of pretty orange blooms appeared in front of her face.

“Lucky guess, hmm?” he smirked before continuing in the same breath. “Favorite animal?”

She was momentarily stunned as she took the tiny bouquet of delicate flowers from him and held them to her nose.

“Cats,” she answered absentmindedly.

“Birds.” She blinked.

“Favorite holiday?” he prodded, attempting to keep their conversation on track.

“Christmas.”

“New Year’s.”

“Favorite…” And on they went as they did a partial circle of the lake. He watched with satisfaction as the pretty brunette lifted the small bouquet of flowers to her nose more than a dozen times, a silly smile on her face that only marked her more beautiful in his eyes. He had never been on a date like this, and he hated for it to end, but it was getting late.

It seemed she was reluctant as well, when fifteen minutes later she let them into her building. “Would you like a cup of hot chocolate?” she asked.

Did he ever, but he could not go to her apartment with her – he didn’t trust himself. “Very much, Hermione, but I cannot,” he said softly. She looked at him, confused. “If I follow you up to your apartment, there will be no hot chocolate. You know this as well as I do, witch. I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t even make it to the bed. We are both aware as to why that cannot happen – not yet.”

The crimson that rose to her already pink-from-cold cheeks was lovely. Hermione hid her smile by bringing her nosegay to her face again. “You’re right, of course,” she chuckled softly. “I had such a wonderful time, Severus.” She raised her eyes to his, searching for something. Snape hoped she found what she wanted, because he had never had such a perfect evening in all his life.

“As did I, princess,” he answered as he took her chin in his fingers and leaned down to kiss her. He meant it to be a gentle kiss, but that damned electrified energy that lurked around them at all times blazed to life. The next thing he knew, her arms were around his neck and he had backed her into the nearest wall as he deepened the kiss.

Hermione whimpered delectably when his tongue sought out her own and he was pretty sure he groaned as well. Snape forced himself to keep the kiss slow, but deepened it just a touch more, reveling the way her nails bit into his neck. As quickly as it started, he slowed it and brought it to an end. “Can I see you again?” he all but begged as he rested his forehead against hers.

“You had better,” she whispered back.

“I’ll owl you,” he promised and dropped another, chaste kiss to her lips. “Good night, Hermione.” He disentangled himself from her and gave a short bow.

“Good-night Severus,” she murmured in return. He smirked at her one last time before turning to head towards the door.

Snape didn’t allow himself to look back at her after he turned away. He knew all would be lost if he did. Because of this, he missed the way Hermione looked after him longingly as he left.

* * *

 

Snape signed off on the week’s ledgers as he kept an eye on the monitors. It was after nine and he knew she would be arriving any minute. She would head to their usual spot and he needed to intercede before she got there.

As he watched, his mind drifted to the night before, as it had done multiple times throughout the day. The date with Hermione had gone perfectly. It had felt…easy. Much easier once they arrived at the restaurant and fell into conversation. She was bright and warm and soft. Her laughter was intoxicating and her smile a balm to his soul. And that _kiss._ If he could have devoured her on the spot, he would have. It had taken every bit of will power he possessed not to accept her offer for hot chocolate. He would not have been able to resist her if he had followed her back to her flat. Even if she had tried to resist and obey her Master, Snape had no doubt he could have talked his way into her panties and into her bed…and there was no question he would have.

Thinking on the task ahead of him tonight, he questioned if he was making a mistake. It’s not like he was going to give up submissives and sex completely while he waited for her. After all, it would likely be _months_ before Hermione would be in his bed. Maybe he was putting the cart before the thestral. He shook his head internally. _No, Severus_. As he had done every other time he questioned himself, he dismissed his doubts immediately. He knew he was doing the right thing. _You need to do this tonight. It’s time_.

He tapped his wand on the ledger causing it to fold and levitate into the cabinet in its appropriate folder. Standing from his desk, he refastened the buttons around his collar and then straightened his cuffs. A flash of red hair on the screen grabbed his eye. _Ah, there she is_.

He left his office in a swift stride and walked into the main room. The crowd was starting to build, and he had to weave his way through the Friday night masses to get to her. He came upon her quickly. “Britt, come. We need to talk.”

Turning back towards him, she bowed her head. “Yes, sir.”

He placed his hand on her mid back and led her upstairs towards his private chambers. He opened his door and indicated for her to go inside, gesturing towards the sofa. “Please make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink?”

There was a slight look of confusion on her face which caused Snape to let out a sigh. “Yes, I know this is unusual. I need to talk to you about…us. Our arrangement.”

“Our arrangement, sir?”

“Please, have a seat.”

She looked from him to the leather sofa. As she sat down, she crossed her legs, causing her short skirt to hike up and leave her long tanned limbs on display. Her green eyes looked up at him, a subtle and expectant smile on her face.

Snape suddenly realized this was going to be harder than he had anticipated. He knew that look. It was the look she bestowed when she knew she had done well and was about to be rewarded. Clearly, she was in for a surprise.

He sat down in the chair opposite her, suddenly not sure where to begin. “Britt, you are certainly aware I have sought you out more than any other submissive in this club…and frankly…outside of it as well.”

Her smile grew ever so slightly as she kept her eyes down and her expression demure. “Yes, sir.”

“You are an exceptional submissive and a beautiful woman. I have been very…fortunate to have your submission and your…affection, all those years ago.” His words were not meant to flatter, Snape meant every one of them. There was a time when he had cared about this woman enough to date her exclusively. If Voldemort hadn’t returned, it’s possible things could have developed into something more permanent with her. Voldemort had returned, however, and Snape had broken things off for her safety. After the war, he simply wasn’t interested in dating. He’d only wanted submissive companionship, nothing more. Not until recently, that was, and not with _this_ witch.

“Sir, may I speak?”

“Of course, Britt. You needn’t ask. You are not submitting right now.”

Her eyes shot up to his boldly. “I have enjoyed submitting for you, but I’m ready when you are to take things further. I was happy when we were…more to each other.”

He shook his head slightly, his voice soft and slow. “Britt, I’m not asking you for more. I have no wish to hurt you, but the reason I need to speak with you is to thank you and to let you know that I will not be seeking your submission anymore. It’s time our unspoken arrangement draws to a close.”

Her face grew pale. “What? Why? Have I done something wrong?” After a second’s pause, she flung herself to the floor at his feet and bowed low before him. Her voice was pleading and soft. “Forgive me. Forgive me for whatever I’ve done. Please, sir! Tell me what I’ve done to earn your displeasure.”

Snape felt sick, this was his fault. He’d known she cared about his blackened soul more than she should. He’d not whispered significant words of affection, but his continued use and praise and Dominance of her had led her to believe she was his. It was never said, but it was a silent understanding between the two of them. Yes, he had scened occasionally with other witches, but he always came to her after. He could not fault her for her reaction.

“Britt, please. You’ve done nothing wrong. Get up from the floor.” He reached down and gently touched her shoulders, urging her up. “This has nothing to do with you. It has to do with me and…another woman.”

Britt immediately looked up at him, hurt etched in the subtle lines around her eyes. Her response came out slightly choked, “What?”

He gestured towards the sofa. “Please, have a seat so that I can explain.”

She slowly stood and made her way back to the sofa. He watched her transform before his eyes from demure and pleading to reserved and proud. She sat down stiffly, sitting up straight with squared shoulders. She looked him head on, her eyes now slightly distant and accusatory.

He swallowed heavily. This was not an expression he was familiar with from this witch. “I don’t blame you for feeling…betrayed. For, while we had no official agreement, we certainly have behaved as though we did, and I regret that it has led to … disappointment.”

He stood and walked towards the bar, raking a hand through his jaw length locks. “I need a drink. Can I offer you one?”

Her voice was crisp and impersonal. “No. No, thank you. I intend to scene tonight and therefore should not partake.”

He nodded to himself and laughed internally without humor. She probably thought she was hurting him with those words and he was certain that had been her intent. He swallowed the fire-whiskey down and turned back towards her. “I don’t blame you if you are upset. I just can’t in good conscience continue to scene with you here at the club as I date her outside of it. It doesn’t feel fair to either one of you.”

Snape watched the redhead as she stood and stepped towards him. She reached up and delicately buttoned a button he had missed, her eyes on her task as she spoke calmly. “I think we both know you’ll be back. No witch can meet your needs as well as I can. Question is, will I be waiting?” She dropped her hands and looked up at him, her expression flat and without a hint of emotion. “Goodbye, Severus.”

He watched in surprise as she turned away from him and walked out of his flat. He didn’t know what he expected, but somehow that hadn’t been it.

He collapsed into the chair and let out a heavy breath.

Was Britt correct?

No.

Britt was exceptional, but Hermione was exquisite.

However, if things didn’t work out with Hermione, he would likely regret giving up the redhead. He would miss her submission and would be lucky to find a replacement. But there lay the issue – Britt wasn’t what he wanted. If she was, he wouldn’t be pursuing Hermione. If things didn’t work out with Hermione, he would still be lacking the true companionship he desired. He knew in his heart Britt would never be the one, and he also knew that being the one was exactly what Britt had wanted to be. She had wanted it ever since he sought her after the war. It had been selfish of him not to end things with her sooner and to continue giving her false hope. Snape was a selfish man, though, and he would be the first to admit it.

Of course, now that he’d ended things with Britt, he would be back to random submissives again. The hungry Dominant within was always anticipating his next meal. He could only hope Lucius wouldn’t take too long to relax his reins on the Gryffindor. Heat and desire flooded him to the core with visions of her naked little body writhing beneath him. Soft, pleading caramel eyes looked up at him, desperate for his touch. He swallowed heavily. _Get it together!_  

Rubbing his eyes, he stood and exited his flat. Lucius was training Hermione tonight and therefore, Snape had the floor. He needed to get back to work. Entering his office, he glanced at the monitors. He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised yet somehow, he found he was. In less than fifteen minutes, Britt had already ensnared herself an all too willing Dominant.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Very heavy BDSM scene in this chapter.

  **Chapter Twenty-Two**

* * *

 

Hermione wrapped her cloak tightly around her neck in attempt to shield her face from the blustery wind. The winter storm was fast approaching, and she found herself concerned for Lucius. Perhaps this hadn’t been such a good idea after all. There was no question Lucius could take care of himself, but she still felt uneasy imagining him negotiating the Muggle streets from the Apparation point during such a severe snow storm. He was not used to the Muggle environment, after all. There were cars and street signs as well as traffic lights to navigate; all of which were heavily obscured from the poor visibility. She couldn’t help the mother hen within from worrying. How the weather had changed so much in just a few days was bewildering. Thursday had been cool, but lovely enough for an evening stroll. Tonight, on the other hand, it was like that movie she and Harry had dragged everyone to – “The Day After Tomorrow”. In just the past two hours, the temperature had dropped suddenly, the wind had started to gust ferociously, and snow was accumulating very quickly. She had to shield her eyes from the stinging flurries as she scanned the sidewalk for his arrival.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief when she spotted his tall figure with a heavy black cloak, grey scarf, and a white head of hair approaching. She stepped towards him and reached her hand out, pulling him inside.

“Come in, come in!” she exclaimed as they dashed through the vestibule and into the warmth of the modest lobby. They gave each other amused glances as they shook the snow out of their hair and off their cloaks. “Oh, Lucius. If I had realized Armageddon was tonight, I would have never suggested we eat at my place. Especially since you came from Malfoy Enterprises and couldn’t floo.”

Lucius merely chuckled as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Not to worry, my dear. I’ve dealt with and survived greater forces than Mother Nature many times.”

Hermione held no doubt that this was true. She imagined not much would phase the man. There was a time when he had been one of Voldemort’s lackeys and Hermione was not so naïve as to believe it had all been for show. Of course, he had been a very different man back then.  She led him to the elevator and, after entering, hit the three. She held her amusement in check when he braced himself and paled as the elevator shuddered before making its ascent. So much for the big, bad Death Eater persona. She gave nothing away as he cleared his throat and straightened his robes. It wasn’t like he had never ridden in an elevator before, but this was a Muggle elevator and to a man like Lucius Malfoy, clearly it wasn’t as safe as the magical version.         

“Perhaps we should connect Malfoy Enterprises to my floo, so you can avoid these Muggle inconveniences when you visit from work.”  The doors opened as she spoke, and Lucius seemed too distracted by his quest to get them off the death contraption and into the hallway to bother with responding.

Having regained his composure as they approached her door, he nodded and smiled lightly. “Yes, and we should connect your floo to the office at The Dungeon as well. I won’t have you walking the Muggle streets in bad weather and after dark.”

Feeling that was a bit excessive but sensing it was best not to argue, Hermione motioned him inside as she opened her door. “Here, let me take your cloak.” He looked at her blankly for a second, as though he had momentarily forgotten she was Hermione Granger and most certainly did _not_ have house elves for such tasks. He snapped out of it quickly enough and unfastened the cashmere wrap before handing it to her alongside his scarf and gloves.

She walked towards the closet, realizing he didn’t have a hat. Perhaps she would make him one to match his scarf. “I’m so glad you agreed to come to my place tonight. I wasn’t sure you would.” She slipped off her own cloak, hat, and gloves, hanging them next to his.

He cocked his head and looked bewildered. “Why ever not?”

She shrugged lightly, straightening her sweater as she approached the side bar where the bottle of red had been breathing. “I don’t know. I guess I just thought you would insist on the Manor.”

He walked towards her, eyeing how the Muggle jeans hugged her bum so perfectly. “I was happy to accept your invitation, Doll. This is your home and I’m flattered you have invited me to share it for a meal.”

She handed him his glass, checking his eyes for any hint of false flattery. Finding none, she picked up her own glass and, after tapping it to his, motioned them towards the sofa. “I ordered a pizza, but with this weather they may not make it. It might be grilled cheese sandwiches for us.”

Taking the offered seat at the end of the sofa, Lucius sipped his wine. “I’m sure whatever we eat will be delicious. The company is what matters.” He leaned back, eyeing her as she sat next to him. “You look lovely, pet. Black suits you.”

Hermione glanced down at the black, mini cable knit sweater as she collapsed back into the sofa, lifting her sock covered feet onto the glass coffee table in front of them. “I’ve had this sweater forever. It’s a bit tighter than it used to be, but it’s comfortable.” Lucius’ gaze did what any man’s would and immediately scanned how tight the sweater actually was, particularly at her chest. He found it could have stood to be a lot tighter.

His eyes moved back to hers. “So, tell me, how was your evening on Thursday? I meant to ask you on Friday, but our session was rather distracting, and it slipped my mind.”

Hermione smirked as she recalled their session. _Distracting, huh?_ It was much more than _merely_ distracting! All conscious thought had practically slipped her mind as he fastened her to a St. Andrews Cross and proceeded to bring her off with a rabbit fur flogger. That alone would have been lovely, but Lucius had taken the flogging to a whole new stratosphere when he slid a fluttering snitch between her bum cheeks. She was instructed not to let it loose and had to squeeze her cheeks tightly to keep the bugger from escaping or from getting too personal. Her bum cheeks were still sore from the workout. Thankfully, the snitch had been charmed into soft rubber so as not to have caused her injury.

Pulling her focus back to Lucius’ question, she sucked in her bottom lip as a toothy grin spread over her face. Her eyes were alight with excitement as she responded, “I’m happy to say it went very well. We actually _talked_ like competent adults. He was…” Her eyes glassed over a touch before she continued. “He was actually very kind and considerate and...” She pulled herself out of her slouchy position and sat up straight, facing Lucius and pulling his hand into hers. “I can’t explain it. Severus and I…we just click, you know? I mean, it’s only been one date, but I feel like we have a real connection. It feels like we’ve been on ten dates. I feel like I _know_ him.”

Lucius swallowed heavily, maintaining his happy façade for her benefit. It wasn’t entirely a façade – in truth, he was happy for her. He smiled as her eyes danced with excitement and her expressive face morphed from surprise, to amazement, to utter happiness as she reminisced about her date.  She was practically childlike with delight as she gushed about the man whom most would call sullen and difficult. How Severus Snape had captured the heart of such a creature…no, he wouldn’t finish that thought. The truth was Lucius _knew_ Severus Snape was a good man. He knew Snape deserved happiness and he always hoped one day a woman would come along who could see past that gruff and standoffish exterior. For underneath was an intelligent, honorable, and good man. The best of men as far as Lucius was concerned. Snape deserved an exceptional witch like Hermione. He deserved his happy ending. Lucius wouldn’t take that away from Snape for anything, but there was no denying it was a big fat pisser that Lucius fancied her as well. He was ok with it, though, and had resigned himself to the inevitable. After all, what choice did he have?

He reached forward to tuck a loose curl behind her ear with his free hand. “I’m happy for you, love.”

Taking the hand that had tucked her hair, she added it to his other; her hands now holding both of his. Soft caramel eyes, full of warmth, looked up at him and whispered impassioned words, making his heart melt. “Lucius, thank you. Thank you for training me, but more importantly, thank you for being such a wonderful friend. If not for you, I might have walked away from this part of myself. I wouldn’t be dating Severus, and you and I probably wouldn’t be the good friends we’ve become. Your friendship has come to be one of the most important in my adult life.”

Slipping his hands from hers, he pulled her close and hugged her tightly. His chin rested on the top of her head as she nestled into him. “Ahh, pet. I adore you…completely! I’m a lucky man indeed to have a friend such as you. You will always have my friendship.” He pulled back and couldn’t stop the words that started to spill. “If...if things with Sever…” His sentence was interrupted by the ring of her buzzer.

“Oh, the pizza!” Lucius was stunned by the speed with which she disentangled herself from his arms and was at the door. He watched as she hit a small button and spoke into a little box. “Yes, this is unit 8C.”

“Uhh, Miss G, I have your pizza. It’s cold as a witch’s tit out here, though. Don’t know how hot it’s gonna be.”

“Come on up.” She hit another button and then dashed across the room to her purse.

Lucius sat stunned for a moment. Stunned by what he had almost said to Hermione and even more stunned by what the voice that was coming through the grey box had said. _Cold as a witch’s tit?_ What in Merlin’s name did _that_ mean? Witch’s tits were typically quite warm, thank you very much! And what kind of a person says such a thing?!

Hermione opened her door and watched towards the elevator before she looked back at Lucius and laughed. “It’s a Muggle saying, Lucius. He meant no offense. I assure you.”

Lucius stood up and walked towards Hermione, his wand in his hand, yet concealed up his sleeve. He didn’t want this Muggle with his offensive words anywhere near his witch. His eyes shot up in surprise when a teenage boy skipped off the elevator towards them. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen and was hardly the dark, hoodlum type Lucius was imagining. “Here ya go, Miss G.”

Hermione took the box and handed him several bills. “Keep the change, Scott. Thanks for coming out on such a nasty night.”

“It’s no problem. You’re just two blocks away. Besides, you’re one of our regulars!”

“Stay warm, ok?” She added as he waved goodbye. She shut the door and scurried towards the kitchen.

Lucius followed behind her and watched closely as she lifted the lid of the box. “Hmm, so that’s pizza, huh?”

Hermione looked back over her shoulder, a surprised expression greeting his curious one. “Well, not just _any_ pizza. This is Luigi’s pepperoni. It’s the best! You’re not about to tell me you’ve never had pizza before! Are you?”

Lucius shrugged lazily. “Can’t say that I have. Draco seems to have found an obsession for it and has mentioned it multiple times.”

Her eyes went back to her task as she pulled out the pizza cutter. “Well, I get to give _you_ a new experience tonight.” Looking back at him coyly, she winked. “Lucky you!”

Hermione picked up the box and led him towards a small round table off her kitchen. He noticed a single flower in a vase placed in the proud and prominent spot of the center of the table. Immediately, he recognized it as one of Snape’s Asphodels. Casting thoughts of the flower aside, he sat down and watched as Hermione cut the pizza with a rolling device and then slid servings onto their plates. He stared at his plate momentarily; a plate that was thin and unlike any he had ever seen. Curious, he touched it and was shocked to find that it was made of paper.

He looked up at Hermione to find her expression full of amusement as she watched him. “It’s called a paper plate, Lucius, and these are paper napkins.” She placed a napkin in his hand that had no embroidery of any kind and, like the plate, was clearly made of paper. “It’s pizza, Lucius. You eat with your hands and its perfectly okay to forgo the Wedgwood on these occasions.”

He looked at her confused. “Wedgwood?”

“As in china? Fine plates?”

“Ah, I see.”

Hermione watched as he continued to study what was in front of him. She waved her wand at their wine glasses by the sofa, causing them to levitate towards and land in front of them perfectly.

Sipping his wine, Lucius watched as Hermione tucked her napkin in her lap and picked up her piece of pizza, taking a big bite. Her eyes rolled in obvious bliss. “Yum! _So_ good.”

Setting his glass down, Lucius smirked a crooked smile as he picked up his slice. “Well, here’s to new experiences.”

“That’s the spirit!” Hermione encouraged as she took her second bite. She watched in anticipation as Lucius studied it before taking a small, tentative bite. He chewed slowly and then his mouth froze momentarily before his chewing resumed at a much more enthusiastic pace. He swallowed and took a larger bite.

Hermione chuckled as she sipped her wine. “It’s good, huh?”

Lucius swallowed and replied playfully, “I’m not sure. I think it requires further study.” He took another large bite and closed his eyes as he chewed.

Hermione wiped her mouth and smiled as she watched him. “I should’ve warned you, Lucius. There’s no going back. It’s like crack. One taste and you’re hooked for life.”

Lucius just looked at her and nodded, taking another bite and chewing his way further into his own addiction. Hermione smiled to herself realizing he would have no idea what crack even was. Then she had to suppress her giggle that he hadn’t cared enough to ask, obviously too interested in his next fix. Understanding his need for silence at such a profound discovery, she let the man eat without further interruption.

At the completion of his first slice, Lucius took a large sip of wine and looked at her with sheer merriment. “This, my dear, is delectable.”

“I’m thrilled you like it. It’s my favorite vice.” Reconsidering her words, she tilted a flirty gaze up at him, “Well _, almost_ my favorite vice.”

Lucius chortled at her meaning as she slid another piece onto his plate. “Speaking of your favorite vice... tell me, Doll. Did you like our scene Friday night?”

Hermione was mid sip of her wine and her eyes grew wide. “Yes! I really liked the cross. I think being restrained is one of my biggest turn-ons.”

Lucius sipped his wine, watching the excitement on her face as she continued. “And the fur flogger. At first, I didn’t see how a fur flogger could offer much heat…but you certainly set me straight on that one.” Lucius delighted in the soft blush that crept over her cheeks as she remembered. “The snitch was…intense”

Lucius merely nodded. “Yes, it was meant to be, my dear. A lesson in control is an important lesson indeed. Despite being submissive and an instrument for me to play, you have more control than you realize. Control I will be teaching you to harness. Particularly, orgasm control.”

Hermione let out a heavy sigh. “Oh boy. I have a feeling that’s going to be hard for me.”

Lucius smiled roguishly. “I can promise I won’t make it easy for you…at least not most of the time.” Lucius laughed at her mock surprised expression.

“You? Make it easy for me? Perish the thought!”

Lucius leaned back in his chair, a teasing smirk on his face. “Oh, but my dear. You see…I have been _quite_ easy on you up until now.” He watched her for moment, her brown eyes looking at him with unveiled curiosity and excitement as her bottom lip once again was sucked into the depths of her mouth. His gaze moved from her lips back to her eyes. “I told you I would introduce you to the kiddie pool and we would work our way towards the English Channel. Let’s just say we are getting there but still have a long way to go.” He reached forward and pulled her lip from her mouth’s grasp before starting on his second piece of pizza. Hermione watched him eat for a moment before continuing with her own slice.

After a couple minutes of comfortable silence, Lucius asked, “So, have you enjoyed your time off?”

Hermione placed her napkin on the table and pushed her plate away, a blissful look in her eyes. “It’s been a wonderful couple of weeks. It’s just _so_ good to get away from work and…decompress.” A radiant smile accompanied her crimson blush when she added, “Of course, you played a large hand in that part.” Shy eyes darted up to his and he mused how she could possibly be shy around him after all they had done. He found it quite endearing. 

Her face fell when she added, “Well, except for Wednesday evening. That was…distressing to say the least.” Lucius didn’t say anything. He simply watched her, willing her to expand on that thought. She didn’t disappoint. “I hope to never earn your displeasure again, Lucius. I…I can’t bear for you to be upset with me.”

He reached forward and stroked her cheek. “I know that, Doll. I’m not upset with you. You accepted your punishment and handled it better than I expected. You have been forgiven and it’s behind us.”

Hermione didn’t say anything for a moment and then looked up at him. “Have you thought any more about my proposed compromise?”

“I have, and I am still thinking about it. It’s a long-held rule, Hermione, and not one I intend to relent on easily and without considerable thought.”

Hermione nodded. “I understand. That’s all I ask – for you to think about it.”

Looking at the table and seeing the Asphodelus, Lucius asked the question he really didn’t want the answer to. “So, when are you seeing Severus again?”

Hermione let out a sigh. “I don’t really know. He said he would be in touch, but I haven’t heard from him.”

Lucius could detect a hint of disappointment in her voice. Slipping her small hand into his larger one, he reassured her with words he knew to be truth. “He has a busy week ahead of him, Doll. He’s even working on his birthday. I’m sure he’ll be in touch soon.”

Hermione’s eyes shot up in sudden surprise. “His birthday?”

Lucius let out a mirthless laugh. “Ah, of course he wouldn’t have mentioned it to you. The man seems to despise his birthday. He refuses to even acknowledge it, much less celebrate it. It’s on Tuesday.”

“Why is that?”

“Who knows. He’s been this way for over twenty-five years. I suspect it’s his typical self-loathing. Anytime anyone ever tries to acknowledge it or do anything nice for him to celebrate, a few choice and well placed words from his acerbic tongue quickly puts an end to it.”

“Hmpf. I can imagine.” She wiggled in her seat to relieve the sudden ache between her thighs as her imagination took it a bit further. She could picture it clearly; Severus’ stern look and delicious acerbic tongue reprimanding her, and her innocent birthday wishes as he swatted her with a riding crop.

After a brief pause Lucius’ words pulled her from her errant fantasy back to the man before her. His look was dazed as though he had been lost in his own daydream. His voice was soft as he lamented, “Narcissa was the only one who could make any headway with him, and all she could persuade him into was dinner. Never a cake and never birthday toasts or wishes.”

Hermione fiddled with her napkin, seemingly deep in thought. She looked up at Lucius after a moment, finding his eyes on hers with a continued far-away look.

She picked up the wine bottle and refilled their glasses as she spoke. “I guess this shouldn’t surprise me about Severus, but it does disappoint me.” Neither one said anything for a minute. “It’s Tuesday, you say?”

Lucius seemed to snap out of his daze as he answered, “Yes, the ninth.” He could see the wheels turning. “I wouldn’t make anything of it, pet. I don’t think it will be met with appreciation if you do.”

* * *

As five o’clock on Tuesday arrived, Hermione found herself still buried in paperwork at her desk. She had intended to be home by now and her frustration was mounting exponentially with each moment that passed. She had known it was going to be a hellish week for her – having been out of the office for the last two. However, today was the one day she needed to get out on time and as of one o’clock this afternoon she had been pleasantly on track to do just that. _Unfortunately,_ _that all went to shit._

Realizing she would have to get home now if her plan was going to fall into place, she tossed her quill on her desk and stood before she grabbed her purse out of the desk drawer. She would simply make it up by staying at work right up until she was to be at The Dungeon tomorrow night and then work until ten on Thursday if necessary. She snagged her cloak as she passed the coat stand and was through the floo to her flat within a moments time. Changing into jeans and a t-shirt, she headed to the kitchen and pre-heated the oven.

Three hours later Hermione entered The Dungeon clad in her mask with the same jeans, a clean white blouse, and her suede black boots. The camel colored cashmere cloak that she had picked up at an after-Christmas sale completed the look. Bucking up her courage, she walked through the club and didn’t speak to or acknowledge anyone, doing her best to adhere to Lucius’ rules of engagement. Yes, she was allowed to speak to certain people, but in truth she was far too nervous to talk with anyone. She’d asked specific permission for her course of action for tonight and had been grateful it had been granted – sort of. If Lucius had said no, she wouldn’t be so nervous right now. If he had said no, she’d likely still have her nose buried in paperwork at her desk. But he hadn’t said no, and Hermione had no clue how well this was going to go. She simply wanted to follow through before she lost her nerve.

Scanning the small crowd, she felt a twinge disappointed Lucius wasn’t there to offer her moral support. Package in hand, she made her way through the back hall to where Lucius had said she would likely find Snape.

Britt sat at the bar, her eyes surreptitiously keeping eye on the hallway that led to the manager’s office. She was waiting for the Dominant she had scened with twice over the weekend. He was younger than she and very eager. What he lacked in experience, he made up for with exuberance and flattery. She was not used to having a young, handsome man shower her with so much attention. Frankly, she never really looked twice at the other Dominants in the club before Friday. She had certainly caught them checking her out. She knew she was an attractive witch and her public displays with Snape had drew many admiring eyes, but Snape was all she had wanted. That was all over now, though. Now that her circumstances had changed, she found her ego could use a little flattery and worship. Master Callum was sexy and sweet and was quite talented with a crop. His repertoire of talents was rather limited, but she was enjoying him all the same. It helped that he was completely smitten with her.

Unfortunately, he was late, and Britt couldn’t help her eyes wandering towards her former Dominant’s direction. It was his birthday and she knew he was here. He always worked on his birthday. Britt had made the abysmal mistake of attempting to lure him away to celebrate a couple times, and she had sorely regretted it. _Sorely_ being the opportune word. It was with a twinge of surprise, a pinch of envy, and then a heaping scoop of mirth that Britt noticed the petite brunette everyone referred to as Doll heading towards the office with what looked like…a cake? Could this be Snape’s mystery woman? Britt recognized her as Lucius’ submissive, however, she knew of two times Snape had scened with the newcomer. There might have even been more times. Whatever this witch was to Snape, she would be in for a rude awakening if she was bringing him a cake for his birthday. Britt couldn’t help her merriment at the prospect. She could picture the wizard’s bilious expression perfectly. It may be Snape’s birthday, but it could prove to be Britt’s night.

Hermione let out a slow calming breath as she stood before the door that said, “Management”. Bucking up her courage, she shook off her nerves, slipped off her mask, and gave the door a light tap.

“Enter.” The command was succinct and stern, yet the voice was unmistakably his. Rich and luscious and… _Ugh, get a grip, Hermione!_

She tentatively opened the door, balancing the red-velvet cake with cream cheese icing precariously with one arm as she navigated the heavy door with the other. She chided herself as she was halfway through. _Geez, you’re a witch! Cast a damn levitating charm!_

She cautiously stepped in to see the back of him slumped over his desk. His feather quill was visible over his shoulder. Rapid scratching sounds from the strokes of its sharpened tip proved he was busy with his task. She could hear him dip and tap the quill on the edge of the ink jar as his hypnotic voice droned, “Yes, can I help you?”

“Hi, Severus,” she choked out. She internally rolled her eyes at how this man could still make her feel like a first year, causing her to lose her voice as it croaked out of her mouth.

He immediately spun around, complete surprise etched into every plane and line of his magnificent face. “Hermione!” He stood up and approached her, his voice no longer distant and harsh, but melodic in its rich, singularly delicious Snape-tone. “What are you doing here?” His eyes glanced up and down her form. “I’m afraid Lucius isn’t here tonight.”

She grinned nervously but felt her courage swell when his reaction to her arrival was anything but hostile. “Oh, I know that. I came to see _you_.”

His eyes moved to the cake as an uncomfortable feeling washed over him, matched with a heavy swallow. She set it down on a table by the door and lifted the lid. Written in green icing over creamy white frosting were the words, _Happy Birthday, Severus!_

She beamed up at him gloriously. “Happy birthday!” After a second’s pause, she stepped close and pushed up on her tip toes, lightly kissing his cheek. She breathed in his heady, delicious scent as she backed away, desperately wanting his strong arms to grab her and not let her go.

His hand unconsciously went to his cheek and Hermione could swear she saw a flash of desire in his eyes before he seemed to compose himself. “Well, this is a surprise.” His smile was forced and rather awkward, but he wasn’t being rude, and he hadn’t yelled. So, overall Hermione figured this was going quite magnificently.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” She dropped her gaze from him to the cake and then peeked back up at him. “I know you’re busy and Lucius told me you don’t like to make a fuss of your birthday, so I won’t keep you. I just wanted you to know…that your birthday means something to me. I made you a cake – I hope you like red-velvet.”

Snape stood stock still while looking at the cake, not sure what to say. This was why he hated his birthday. He felt awkward and that certain behaviors were expected from him. He didn’t like to be grateful and he didn’t like people making him feel like he was in their debt because they were nice to him. However, he couldn’t deny a small tingling of warmth that crept up his spine when her soft, sweet doe eyes looked up at him. She had made him a cake. How very…Hermione. An awkward smile still in place, he contemplated what to say. _You could pretend to be grateful_. For her, he could do this. He might not eat it and would simply give it to the staff, but he would be kind. “Thank you, Hermione. That was very…sweet of you.”

There was another awkward pause as they stared at each other for a moment. She ran her hands absently down the front of her cloak. “Oh, um, well…I guess I’ll get going. I know you’re busy.” She started to slip her mask back on when he lightly touched her arm as though to stop her. She could feel the hairs on her body immediately stand on end. His touch was as electric as ever.

His hand fell to his side and he cleared his throat. _Had he felt it, too?_ she pondered.

“Actually, Hermione. I was wondering – would you be free on Saturday for lunch?”

“Lunch?” Hermione hoped her voice didn’t convey the disappointment she felt. Lunch was well and good, but it was usually reserved for friends, not love interests. _Right?_ “Yeah, lunch would be great.”

Sensing a slight unease from her and maybe a touch of uncertainty, he added, “I would much prefer another dinner, but I’m afraid my schedule just doesn’t allow for much else this week. We are completing our financial books for 2006 and I’m swamped with paperwork. Then there’s the day to day management of the club.”

Feeling her nerves settle from his words – Hermione was well aware of how work could interrupt one’s social life – she replied softly. “I understand, Severus.” After a glimmer of a pause she continued, her speech a bit rushed, “I just want to see you. I had a really good time on Thursday, and well…I want to spend more time getting to know you.”

She was rewarded with a soft and rare genuine smile.

Snape was touched by her sincerity. It floored him how open and unguarded she was. It was…bewitching. “I had a wonderful time as well, Hermione. How about I owl you later this week with details. Perhaps we can make an afternoon of it?”

The beaming smile he coveted was unleashed as she responded, “That would be great. I’ll look forward to it.” She wanted to throw her arms around him, but if she did it might lead to a kiss and who knows what else. She had promised Lucius any touching would be minimal. The kiss on the cheek she had already bestowed was probably pushing it. One thing was for sure, she would tell Lucius about the innocent peck before Snape had a chance to. Snape seemed to be thinking along the same lines as he opened and held the door for her, all while avoiding touching her.

Britt was only half paying attention to Master Callum as they talked at the bar. She was curious as to what was happening in the office and with every passing minute found herself stunned the petite witch hadn’t come rushing out in tears or looking shaken or angry…or _something_! Surely Snape had rained his wrath on her by now! So, it was with utter shock and not a small bit of jealousy that Britt watched with absolute amazement as the petite witch walked out smiling. Not only smiling, but there was also a calm and pleasant appearing Snape walking beside her?

It was in this moment that Britt understood she might have misjudged the situation. There were a few possible scenarios at play here. If this was the witch Snape was interested in, he was treating her with apparent kid gloves. There was no question he would want no part of that cake, so why in the world was he being nice to her? _Perhaps she’s too delicate for him to be himself_. This thought gave Britt great comfort. If that was the case, this little bird would never meet his needs. On the other hand, if he truly didn’t mind her actions… Well then, _that_ was something else entirely. Something Britt really hated to acknowledge, much less think about.

Snape walked back to his office feeling lighter than he had in the last few days. That little surprise visit had gone very well. He had accepted kind birthday wishes and even a cake without cursing her to Hades…and the sky had not fallen down on him because of it. He had even been nice to her in return. _What is this witch doing to you?_ Shutting the door to his office, he walked back to his desk and sat down, purposefully ignoring the cake. He would not eat it after all. Severus Snape did _not_ eat birthday cake. Ever.

He picked up his quill and stared at the parchment in front of him. _Perhaps you should just take it to the employee lounge_. Yes, that would be best. The sweet-smelling icing was very distracting. He stood up and turned towards the platter. Standing over it he contemplated _, Perhaps just a taste_. After all, it would be polite to comment on it when he saw her next and it would be best if he were honest. What if she asked him a specific question and he couldn’t answer? _Yes, a taste, then – and after you’ll take it to the lounge_.

Picking up the knife and plate she had included, he cut into the pastry. He took a deep breath as the delicious and light smell of chocolate greeted his nostrils. He sliced a small wedge and was surprised to find it had six layers; six layers of rich, moist, red cake with the fluffy cream cheese icing in-between. Placing the slice on the plate, he set the knife down. As he started to move away from the table, something reflective caught his eye. There was something in the middle of the cake, on the inside. Putting the plate down, he bent low to take a closer look. He swallowed as he tentatively pulled on the silver object.

* * *

“How was your birthday cake?” Lucius didn’t even greet his friend properly before flooing in Wednesday evening. He had arrived with just enough time to have a short conversation with Snape before meeting Hermione. Of course, he knew about the cake and the little gift. He also knew that Snape hadn’t reacted abhorrently – which was a _huge_ first. He was dying to see the reaction from him first hand. He shook out his cloak before he hung it on the coat tree near the fireplace, carefully slinging his scarf over the top of it.

“It was delicious,” Snape’s voice was sincere, and Lucius looked up in surprise. He had even had a _piece_ of it? Unheard of!

Lucius laughed. “She’s utterly bewitched you,” he teased. “Flowers and Italian. Walks in the park and politeness. Who are you and what have you done with Severus Snape?”

Snape couldn’t even be pressed to be grouchy with his blond friend. It was true – Hermione Granger _had_ bewitched him. If he were honest with himself, he would have to admit he welcomed the change. A memory crossed his mind, however, and he sobered.

“I should ask the same of you, Luc,” he said carefully. “What has she done to you? Drinking before noon on New Year’s? Are you having trouble again?”

Lucius’ face darkened, and Snape recognized the shield that slammed over his eyes. “Nice of her to say so,” he sneered. Snape saw the words and expression for what they were – he was using anger to deflect. The mood shifted immediately, all teasing gone.

“Hey,” the dark-haired man’s voice was firm, “don’t be like that. She cares about you and it worried her enough for it to warrant a somewhat awkward conversation with me. If you make her feel bad about telling me, I’ll be pissed.” They studied each other before he continued, “Why would you do that to yourself? _Is_ this something I need to be worried about? You only ever drink to excess when it involves a woman, Luc. Narcissa’s death almost killed you, literally. You _can’t_ do that again, it will kill Draco.”

Lucius’ shoulders slumped, his regal presentation faltering at the concern in his friend’s tone. “It was just the one day,” he answered. His voice was cool and controlled. “A momentary lapse in judgement. It won’t happen again.”

“What? The drinking? Or the fact that you’re falling for her just as quickly as I am?” The words came out without his permission and he buried his hands in his face with a muffled groan when Lucius spun back to the fireplace. The older man braced himself against the mantle, his knuckles whitening with his grip.

“I told you, you have nothing to worry about,” Lucius whispered. Snape just barely heard him. “I will walk away when she’s ready for you.”

Silence. Snape huffed again and wiped a hand down his face as he tried to think of the best thing to say. He was not upset with Lucius. After his date with Hermione, he knew very well that they were compatible. She wanted him – had wanted him from their first session back in November. He also knew his friend, Lucius wouldn’t hurt him like that. They were family in every sense except blood.

He was concerned for Lucius, though. Worried he was getting in too deep. Worried he was letting himself fall in love with the girl – and unsure of what he could do to make sure that didn’t happen. It would be a nightmare, a mess. Not to mention horribly confusing for Hermione.

“I’m not worried about you keeping your word, Luc,” Snape spoke softly. “I’m worried about you – as my friend. As my family. Are things becoming too complicated with her?”

Lucius couldn’t help but think that this conversation was supposed to have been light and fun. A bit of ribbing on his friend for accepting birthday wishes for the first time in possibly forever. How did it get turned about on him? Lucius wasn’t about to tell Snape he was a breath away from being completely in love with the girl. Snape, being the self-depreciating bastard that he was, would most likely feel the need to step down. To back off and stop pursuing Hermione. That would break her heart and, in turn, break Lucius’ to see her thus. Not to mention break Severus’ as well. Severus, who for the first time in miserable life found a woman who brought a real spark of life into his obsidian eyes.

“She is an exquisite submissive, Severus,” Lucius started his half lie carefully. “It’s hard not to become attached to a submissive who is as instinctive as Miss Granger. It helps that she’s very pretty,” he purposely didn’t say beautiful, “intelligent, a quick learner, and the list goes on.” He sucked in a deep breath and pushed himself away from the brazier. If he didn’t look Snape in the face, the man wouldn’t believe him. “I do care for her, but not in the way you are thinking. She has become a dear friend, and I wish to keep her in my life. But as a friend _only_ Severus. All though, I would certainly never turn down the offer to be your third with the girl, when it’s desired.” He smirked convincingly before his face smoothed into seriousness.

“Some lines were crossed New Year’s Eve – things became a bit emotional. On both our parts, but we had a very intense session and then went to sleep in the same bed. _I_ made that mistake, she was just along to please me. That’s something you will find she lives for – pleasing her Master.” Lucius sneered when Snape’s eyes went impossibly dark with desire.

“That line will not be crossed again, there will be no more overnights,” he promised. “She’s more special than other submissives I’ve had, most likely because of our friendship out of the bedroom. The lines must be clearer cut, not blurred like I am used to. Hermione isn’t the only one learning things in this agreement.”

Snape seemed to contemplate his words for a few moments before answering. “If you’re sure, Lucius. I know I can trust you – I know you wouldn’t do anything on purpose to shake our friendship.”

“I wouldn’t, Sev.” Lucius was glad his explanation seemed to be enough.

* * *

Hermione entered the club Friday night stressed to the nines and very prepared to give herself to her Master. She hoped Lucius had something a little more intense for tonight. She knew he had slowly been ramping things up for her through each session, but the more he gave her, the more she wanted. Tonight, she needed him to make her mind blank, she needed the pain and humiliation to feel alive, and wanted control taken away from her completely. She scanned the bar, noticing immediately Jonathan was not present. Part of her felt disappointed, she was curious as to how things were going with Clarise since she had seen him the previous Friday. He had not been behind the bar this past Wednesday, either. Perhaps she should send him an owl and ask him to join her for lunch one day this coming week.

Her eyes fell on Lucius and her whole body sagged with relief. It was astonishing to Hermione how much she had come to need these nights with him. They focused her more than anything else she had tried in her short life. Slipping through the Friday night crowd she presented herself to her Master, her eyes on the ground and body at Attention. He was speaking with two other Doms she had come to know were fairly regular patrons.

“Good evening, Doll,” Lucius silky voice greeted her off-handedly.

“Good evening, Master,” she murmured politely. He returned to his conversation, but not before guiding her to stand in front on him. One arm encircled her collarbones from behind as he pulled her into his chest. Hermione leaned into him, it was a relief to have his support.

She tuned out his conversation and only kept a fraction of her mind on the sound of his voice in case he was to ask her a question or require something of her. She focused on the feel of his heavy arm across her chest, the solid wall of his body at her back, and the rumble of his voice as she settled her head into the hallow of his shoulder that seemed to fit her perfectly.

She wasn’t sure how long it was that they stood there thus, only that his nose was nuzzling the side of her neck. She took a quick breath when his voice startled her. “You are tired tonight, pet. Do you need to be disciplined for your abysmal sleep schedule this week?” He was teasing her, she had warned him with her Monday night journal entry that this week would be horrible for sleep because she had been out of the office for two weeks. Being a business man himself, he had understood and had asked her to do her best to get at least five hours a night. She had succeeded, but just barely.

“I just need you, Master,” she murmured in answer. “I need you to just take over so I don’t have to think for a while.” She had yet to open her eyes, still cradled against his body.

Suddenly, there was a small commotion that had them both standing straight and seeking out the noise. “I think he’s choking!” they heard a voice come. Lucius quickly moved through the crowd with Hermione on his heels. They got to the outskirts of a small circle of people in less than three seconds. Numerous patrons were staring horrified at a man who was obviously choking. “I’ve done the charm twice! It’s not working!” a young witch exclaimed as the man’s face went from a deep pink to red.

Lucius took a step forward, commanding the crowd as he pointed his wand at the wizard. Hermione recognized him as one of the men Lucius had just been talking to. “ _Detrudo_!” he said firmly. Nothing happened, and the man was clearly becoming quite panicked. Had thirty seconds even passed yet? Another person shouted the charm, pointing their wand. Again, nothing happened. The man’s face was the color of red bricks. Hermione wondered if the obstruction was too low for the charm to work…she knew the Heimlich maneuver. Even though the situation was not remotely funny, a smirk rose to her features as she quickly moved to stand beside Lucius.

“Permission to speak, Master,” she said smugly.

“Not now, Doll!” Lucius was completely dismissive which made her bristle. The man’s eyes were starting to bulge, and his face was now turning purple.

“Permission to touch your friend, Master!” Hermione exclaimed loudly as she started to feel a lot less smug and a lot more worried herself. The entire room became silent with her forceful question and it seemed everyone was looking at her.

Lucius was momentarily stunned before he answered, “Yes, of course!” She saw the flash of regret in his eyes.

Hermione was already rounding the wizard when Lucius gave permission. She wrapped her arms around the man and used her finger tips to find his navel. She closed her eyes and formed her fists just above the landmark before she jerked her arms back hard and fast. Nothing. She did it again, more forcefully, and was disheartened when it still didn’t work. The din that had risen again after her request was hazy in her ears and she had to force herself to focus. He was a big man, and she was a tiny woman. Using every ounce of determination and strength she possessed, she pulled her arms back around the man forcefully, caving in his gut. She would have lost her balance and wound up with the two-hundred-pound man on top of her on the floor if it hadn’t been for steadying hands on her shoulders. There was a grunt and a cough and then the man bent over and retched on the floor, gasping for breath with tears spilling down his face.

“Thank you, thank you!!” The woman who had been so upset threw herself into Hermione arms, sobbing. Hermione hugged her back, realizing she was shaking with adrenaline. Part of her mind couldn’t help but think that she had better not get a fucking punishment spanking because this woman had launched herself into her personal space. Other people were talking loudly, some were clapping. Hermione was very, very thankful for the mask that concealed her identity. This whole situation would have been five times worse if they knew war heroine Hermione Granger had saved the day.

The witch let her go and moved back to the man who was being helped by a few people to sit on a stool. Hermione noticed Snape enter the room, moving quickly towards the commotion with concern etched into his features.

“What happened?” Snape’s voice rose above the noise and he caught her eye, but she demurely looked away. She was not allowed eye contact without permission and she needed to go back to playing her part as a submissive now that the danger was over.

“Lucius?” Snape’s voice could be heard again.

“I’ll be right back, Severus,” Lucius replied. “I’m just going to make sure Doll is okay. She just saved that man’s life.” Lucius wrapped his arm around Hermione’s shoulders and led her quickly out of the main room, pulling her into his and Snape’s managerial office.

“You are not submitting right now,” he said as he guided her to one of the oversized office chairs. He could feel her body trembling. “Sit,” he directed before kneeling in front of her. “Are you okay, Hermione?”

“I am, I’m a bit shocked,” she answered. Her voice cracked twice, and she cleared her throat before continuing. “When it didn’t work the first couple times, I thought we would watch him die. I just…I’m a little shaken.”

“That’s understandable,” he soothed quietly as he took one of her hands between both of his and chaffed it, trying to bring warmth back into her fingers. They sat there in silence as she calmed. When her shuddering stopped, he summoned a bottle of water from the side board and twisted the cap off.

“Here, love,” he murmured, indicating she drink. She did, deeply. More than half the bottle was gone before she stopped to take a breath. “Are you sure you’re okay? Should we call it a night?” he questioned.

Slowly, her unfocused eyes met his. “Oh, please no,” she whispered. “I really need you tonight, Lucius. Especially after that. I’ve been looking forward to tonight all day – hell, all _week_!”

Lucius was taken aback by her candid proclamation, and more than a little turned on by her words. Not “I need you, Master,” but “I need you, _Lucius_.” _Pull it together, Luc._ He wasn’t ever going to be able to distance himself enough from her. He might as well resign himself to the pain the end of their contract was going to cause him and enjoy her while he could. _Merlin_.

“Mm,” he hummed. “I will oblige. That is request one, pet. I wish you go to playroom thirteen and ready yourself for me. I will be there after I take care of a few things.”

“Yes, Master,” she answered immediately, her heart rate spiking. This would be the first time he had directed her to go ahead without him, she was surprised with how nervous it made her.

“A kiss first, I think,” Lucius murmured. He stood and pulled her with him before he leaned down and brushed her lips with his. “I’m sorry you’ve had such a busy week, Doll. Let’s see if we can relieve some stress tonight. Off you go.” He spun her without waiting for a reply and gave her a light smack on her back side. Hermione let out a surprised grunt at the contact and felt her cheeks flame to life, but obediently made her way out of the office. She cut around the opposite way they had come in, so she could skirt through the bar area unnoticed.

Thirty minutes later, she was back to feeling very sleepy, along with her ankles and feet. Goodness, she hadn’t expected him to be quite so long. Holding some of these positions were exhausting. No matter how you sliced it, sitting in a kneeling position for longer than ten minutes was uncomfortable. She would need to build her stamina if waiting like this was going to be a regular occurrence. She closed her eyes and let her chin fall forward to her chest, focusing on her breath and meditation techniques to alleviate her discomfort. She would _not_ fail this evening before he had even begun their session.

She jumped, quite startled when the door slammed open a few minutes later. Heart rate skyrocketing, it took effort to keep her eyes on the floor.

“Up, on your feet! Wall position.” Lucius didn’t greet her, and her stomach twisted. The Wall position was what he used when he paddled her last week. Not wanting to make any punishment she might have coming worse, and remembering he said they would always talk about a severe punishment before it happened, she scrambled to her feet. She wasn’t able to help the slight limp due to her sleeping lower limbs as she made her way across the room to the wall. She crossed her arms and splayed her hands flat as she stuck out her bum and spread her feet slightly more than hip width a part.

“Good girl.” His voice was still crisp, but pleased. “We’ll start with the flogger.”

Hermione grinned at the wall. Fuck, she loved his flogger. Instantly she was aroused, immediately she was alert. The first gentle stroke – he always started gently – caused her to groan as the tension she hadn’t even realized she had been holding seeped out of her body. Her head fell forward, drowning her in her own hair. The flogging continued for many minutes.

Swap. Swap. Swap. Swap.

A bit harder.

Swap. Swap. Swap. Swap.

She wished he’d talk to her, her brain was still much too active.

Harder.

Swap. Swap. Swap. Swap.

When the intensity had crept up enough that each blow stung just a bit, a deeper moan left her. She was more than turned on at this point and growled in protest when he stopped. “Join me at the couch, Miss Granger,” he directed, and she heard him set the flogger down as she straightened. Hermione watched him settle onto the couch before flicking his wand. Her eyes widened when something she had not seen before soared across the room into his hand in a blur of metal and leather.

“Kneel between my legs, facing me.” She complied, eyes down.

“This is called a spider gag, Miss Granger.” He held out the implement. “Are you familiar?”

“No, Master,” she answered.

“Look at it.” Her eyes lifted, and she took in the large, hollow circle of metal with four crooked “legs” forking off each side. “Any objections?” His silver eyes were dark with lust; flogging aroused him as much as it did her. She could see the bulge in his trousers.

“No, Master.”

“Open your mouth – wide.”

She obeyed. The cold metal was tucked behind her upper and lower incisors, the legs pointing out like a square around her permanently opened mouth. He gently tapped it with his wand and the ring grew until it was slightly uncomfortable. “Oh, Doll, you have no idea.” Lucius’ voice was gruff as he tenderly stroked her face with the pads of his fingers.  
  
“I want you on the flat bench, on your back. Knees bent, feet flat, arms spread.” Her already pounding heart accelerated, the muscle trying to escape her ribcage. She quickly moved to standing and crossed to position herself as commanded on the wooden table. The moment she was laying down, he was over her. Helping her adjust, so her head hung upside-down off the edge of the table and her arms and legs were just right. The moment he was satisfied he waved his wand which caused metal cuffs to sprout out of the wooden top to shackle her in place. Hermione knew her eyes had grown three times their normal size and felt a flush rise to her cheeks when he laughed at her. He still didn’t talk – she wondered if that was part of it. He was moving through his steps much more quickly tonight then they’d ever had before.

“You’re familiar with these, pet?” Lucius asked when he came back into her line of sight. She tried to right her head enough to see what he had in his hands. She wanted to swallow, but it came out as a choked tongue click as she moved the saliva in her mouth to the back of her throat. Suddenly, a flogger she hadn’t even seen cracked down over her torso, she gasped and yipped. “Answer me, Doll.” His voice was hard.

 _Answer him? How?_ She worked her throat. “Yes, Master!” It sounded more like “heth ather”, but he seemed to understand.

“Do you know what these are?”

“Heth, ather!”

“Good.” In the same breath he reached out to pluck her right nipple, pebbling it instantly before he pulled it up and away, stretching her breast like a taffy pull. There was no other warning than that before he fastened a nipple vice over it. Her body arched with the pain even as he started to torture the other. After they were in place, he pointed his wand at her face. “ _Obscuro_.” Instantly she was blind, and her senses skyrocketed. She was already breathing heavy when he started to rain heavy blows from a one-inch suede flogger across her abdomen, making the clamps bounce. She couldn’t help the small shrieks and instantly she decided she was not super fond of nipple clamps. Even though they weren’t weighted and dangling from her body like the time with Snape, they still _hurt_!

When the flogger flopped over a breast she squealed loudly, causing saliva to spill out of her permanently O-shaped mouth. Lucius’ rumbled laugh sent a deluge to her knickers. _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_ She let out another shriek as he focused the weight of the implement over her breasts, causing her to arch and wiggle as she tried to get away from the shock of the pain even as it caused tremendous amounts of pleasure.

The flogger stopped, and suddenly he was running his fingers over the scrap of silk that covered her sex. Not being able to see him, what he was doing, or how he looked, was making her mental. Not being able to anticipate his movements caused desire and anxiety to war in her mind. “These are positively drenched, love.” Good god, his voice was deeper than usual and caused chills to cascade down her spine as her clit spasmed at his touch. Without warning, he grasped her knickers in his fist and pulled hard, causing another tight scream to leave her lips as the straps dug hotly into her hips before they broke and gave way. “I told you I liked to shred through my submissive’s knickers, pet,” he teased. “I’m surprised it took me this long to demonstrate, you prove to be a delicious … distraction.”

“Uhhh,” was her only reply. Fleetingly, she thought of the drawer she’d had to clean out when a package of hundreds of knickers had arrived at her flat. It was stuffed with underwear that boasted French tags – silks, lace, satin; boy shorts, thongs, bikini briefs – all in a varying array of prints and colors and patterns. As quickly as the thought came, it disappeared. Hermione was lost – he’d completely sucked her into his command, his desire, his world. She was his – she didn’t care what he did to her, what he would do to her. The intensity he was presenting tonight was exactly what she had wanted, what she had needed.

His fingers were back at her slit, sliding through the moisture and causing her to whimper and roll her hips. “Hmm, that needs to stop.” There was a breath of silence and then her hips could no longer move. _Sticking charm,_ the thought came from somewhere…or nowhere. _Who cares?!_

“Uhhhnnn,” she moaned again when he slipped two fingers up her quim.  
  
“Has anyone ever made you squirt before, pet?” He sounded very curious.

“Oh, ather,” she responded to the best of her ability.

“No?” He curled his fingers against her g-spot and started a sweeping motion with a frim, almost painful pressure. She grunted loudly. “Should we try?”

“Heth, atheeeer!” The answer ended on a visceral snarl. She wanted to raise her hips but couldn’t.

“Accio g-spot wand.” _Grr!_ _I want to see!_ If possible, her breathing accelerated even more. Her tongue was drying out even as her saliva collected on the roof of her mouth. She gasped when she felt cold, cold metal touch her lower lips.

Lucius lazily coated the larger bulbed end of the metal g-spot wand in her excitement before slowly slipping into her cunt, causing her head to frantically shake back and forth as snarls of pleasure broke from her chest. Her breasts, nipples delightfully dark with the lack of blood the clamps were keeping at bay, bounced as her breaths came in rapid, ragged gasps. He angled the wand and started an intense rhythm.

“’uck!” she shouted, and he couldn’t help but chuckle darkly. His cock was going to have the imprint of his placket on it by the time he set it free. He devoured her with his eyes, she looked so fucking sexy. He shook the wand side-to-side causing more snarls.

“Come, Doll,” he demanded. When she’d had her pleasure, he was going to take his – forcefully. He continued his assault on her pussy, really wondering if she would squirt. Some witches just couldn’t, and some could soak a bed and leave a puddle on the floor. Angling the wand so it pressed more deeply into the anterior wall of her vagina, he dropped his other hand to start fondling her clit.

“Uhh,” she groaned. “Uh, uh!” Her upper body was almost frantic within its limited movement. She tilted her head up, almost as if she wished to watch what he was doing. The scarf around her eyes prevented her from seeing a thing.

“Come!” he commanded, watching the hallow of her throat convex and concave rapidly with her breathing.  
  
Her entire body froze before she threw her head back. “Oh, gaaa!” Her body convulsed.

“Yes!” he hissed, watching appreciatively as she shattered. He continued to stimulate her g-spot through her orgasm and was quite suddenly rewarded with a gush of fluid. “Oh, _Miss Granger_!” Lucius came as close to crowing with excitement as one as dignified as he could. “What a treat for me!” he teased as the puddle beneath her continue to grow. She was most likely not even remotely coherent, her body continued to shudder with her release as she made visceral noises in her throat that made her sound like a wanton, Knockturn Alley whore. _Well…close as they come these days, we are in Knockturn Alley._ He snorted silently at his own crude joke. Carefully he slipped the metal instrument out of her before banishing it back to its shelf to be magically cleaned.

Lucius rounded to the head of the table and flicked his wand to raise it, so her mouth would be the perfect height to take his cock. He had every intention on getting off twice tonight, once in her mouth and once in her hot little pussy. Carefully he leaned over her to undo the nipple clamps. A low rumble of pain and heavy panting left her when he released first the left, then the right. She squirmed madly, her hands curling into fists as they jerked against the metal cuffs of her restraints.

He grabbed a handful of her hair tightly in a fist and dragged her head up, pulling her blindfold off. Hermione’s dark eyes whirled, searching him out. When their gazes locked, he leered at her. “You’ve made an absolute mess of my table, Miss Granger,” his voice was full of mock-disapproval, “I might need you to lap that up later as punishment,” he cocked an eyebrow when she whimpered. “I’m going to take my pleasure, now.” He told her, and she nodded frantically.

“Heth, ather!” She was enthusiastic, and he grinned at her.

“Good girl,” he crooned, smoothing some spittle from around her mouth. “You will not be able to make any noise soon, pet. So, you’ll use this scarf like you did the night in my ballroom.” He ripped a chunk off the scarf and tucked it into one hand, her fingers gripped around it. “Demonstrate,” he demanded. She let the scarf drop. He immediately tucked it back in. “Perfect. Now, prepare yourself.”

Lucius released his trouser placket, pulling his length from his pants while letting her head drop back over the edge of the table. He started slowly, slipping his cock inside the center of the spider gag, groaning when she automatically started running her tongue over the sensitive skin. He nudged in a bit further until he met the resistance of her throat muscles. “Relax your throat, Doll,” he told her thickly. He felt her obey before slipping in a bit further. Hermione gave a slight gag, but he did not pull back. “You will take my cock down your throat tonight, pet, relax!” he growled, his eyes sliding shut with pleasure as he pushed through the ring of muscle, effectively blocking her air. “Yes, baby girl, like that.”

Hermione went absolutely still when Lucius pushed his prick fully down her throat and her breath was cut off. She couldn’t deny that this was one of the hottest things she had ever experienced in her life as his bullocks pressed into her nose. She gave a slight jerk when she needed a breath and panicked just a smidge when he didn’t immediately pull back. _Calm down, he will not suffocate you with his cock. All though – what a way to go!_ The next moment he slid back, a long string of saliva pulled with him. It dangled for a moment before snapping and falling across her face, making her flinch slightly as she sucked in a deep breath.

Lucius pushed forward again, this time only using one smooth stroke to push back through her neck muscles and into her throat. She groaned, and the vibrations made him clench his jaw. “Good girl,” he murmured, smoothing a hand over one tender breast, teasing its sensitive peak. She bowed into his hand. He pulled out again to let her breathe. “I will not keep up this slow pace, Doll. I will fuck this pretty little mouth until I come down your throat,” he warned. He could feel the vibrations in her chest as she moaned again, obviously very turned on by his words.

One more time he slowly, but firmly pushed his way into her throat. This time he stayed bullocks deep, moving his hand to her throat. “Oh, Miss Granger,” he sang smugly. “I’m so deep in your throat, I can see the outline of my cock here on the outside.” He used his thumb and forefinger to stimulate himself through her skin and felt the vibrations of yet another primitive snarl on his prick. _Merlin and Morgana, this is intoxicating,_ he mused. He stayed put another few seconds. She jerked once, twice, her body searching for air. The third time he pulled back and she gasped desperately as her tongue clicked in her mouth, trying to swallow.

Lucius let her breathe for a solid ten seconds before he started his full assault on her mouth. Sliding in more quickly, he bottomed out and then jerked his hips three times before pulling back to let her breathe, then repeated the motions. He kept a slow but steady pace for four rounds, letting her catch the pattern, before he upped the pace. Then another six rounds before he upped the pace to the tempo he wanted. Frequently she made gagging sounds and her breaths were raspy and desperate sounding. He kept one eye on the scarf in her hand, which was clenched into a fist so tight her knuckles were bloodless.    

He added the next stage of his plan and slapped his hand down firmly on one bouncing tit. She jerked and then moaned around him. He smacked the other, all the while pounding in and out of her throat.

The sounds started to flow out of her endlessly, only heightening the sensation around his cock. He let himself go, firm in his conviction that she wouldn’t drop that scarf even if her life depended on it. Thrust, thrust, thrust. Crack! Breathe. Thrust, thrust, thrust. Crack! Breathe.

After mere minutes, and in a very tight voice he told her, “Swallow it all, my pretty little slut.” He let her take a deep breath before slamming into her throat and jerking his hips. His seed spurted down her throat and he felt her muscles work over his length, taking it all down. He stayed there, letting his orgasm subside. Her throat worked over him while he implemented his next game. Hermione had given breath play a four on her list, despite never having done it before.

Keeping his eye on her scarf, he watched as she jerked once before going quite still. Ten seconds later she gave another jerk, a bit more urgently. He still didn’t move as he counted silently. The skin on her neck and chest was starting to turn red as she jerked a third time. At thirty solid seconds with no air, Hermione still hadn’t dropped the scarf. Her throat was working faster, and he stifled his groan when she jerked a fourth time.

Lucius was humbled by her trust in him when he had counted thirty-five seconds. He stayed still and silent as she jerked a fourth time. Five…four…three…two…one. He pulled back and she sputtered and coughed and drew in frantic breaths. He summoned a handkerchief and knelt before her. Hermione’s eyes were closed as she heaved in air. Her eyelashes were wet with tears and spittle surrounded her mouth and nose. “Such a good girl, Doll. So good, my dear. Utter perfection,” he praised sincerely as he tenderly removed the fluids from her face. “You certainly know how to make your Master feel amazing, pet.”

Hermione was concentrating so fiercely on her breathing that she barely took in his praise. Half her mind was focused on her desperate ache to come again as his pleasure had only heightened her need. She pressed her face into his touch and absentmindedly wondered if he’d remove the gag now, her jaw was starting to ache.

No sooner had she thought it when the strap around her head loosened. “Careful, love, we don’t want to chip those pearly whites,” he mused softly. Cautiously, he helped her slip the metal ring from behind her teeth, groaning with her as he gently massaged her jaw while she slowly closed her mouth.

Hermione’s bonds were released next as Lucius told her, “You have five minutes to rest, I’ll get you some water.” _Rest? We’re not done?_ While she really did want to come again, part of her was so knackered, she would have been okay to be done.

Knowing better, she answered, “Yes, Master,” and rolled into a sitting position, drawing her legs to the side so she was sitting on her hip. “Thank you, Master,” she told him when a bottle of water was placed in front of her face.

Hermione’s five-minute break was spent in silence, only punctuated with the sounds of him preparing their next scene. She kept her eyes down (Lucius had directed her in their Wednesday session that she was to not look at him or what he was doing unless directed to do so) while she waited for instructions.

“Come,” he commanded just as her reprieve was up. She pushed herself up onto shaky legs and moved to him, her eyes on his bare feet. “Up,” he directed. “You may look, so you don’t hurt yourself.”

Hermione raised her eyes and her heart just about stopped. In front of her was the same wooden stockade Severus had used on her before. _Where the hell did that come from?! It was not in here earlier!_ The only change was that she would have to climb to put her hands and head through. It was open, prepared for her, and there was a cushioned bench for her knees. It would put her directly at his hip height. She forced herself not to glance at him in surprise as she obediently climbed up, settling her knees before laying her wrists and neck into their respective slots. Lucius closed the hinge and clasped a metal buckle to keep it in place, effectively trapping her.

He moved around the contraption to stand in front of her. His trousers were refastened, but he was shirtless and barefoot. Unable to help herself, she raised her eyes over the sinewy planes of his abdomen to his lightly defined chest before stopping at his nipple line when she noticed the tips of his white-blond tresses caressing his skin. She shivered in anticipation.

Gently, Lucius sunk his fingers into her own unruly locks and gathered them into a pony tail at the top of her head. He twisted an elastic into it to tie it securely. Hermione found herself a bit confused but kept her eyes straight forward while he continued working. Abruptly, her head was jerked up forcefully by her hair, making her roots yelp in protest as she squeaked. A rope was dangling above her head which he quickly knotted into her hair. It did not hurt, unless she tried to drop her head down to her chest. Arousal swept hard and fast through her body, pooling in her loins. _Oh, gods,_ she whimpered internally.

“Mm, lovely,” he murmured before a moderate slap landed on her cheek. She flinched, her eyes blinking rapidly as her lips parted on a startled gasp. Another slap landed on the other cheek and the heat of a blush crept up her neck, staining her face hot pink. “Tell me you like having your hair pulled and your face slapped, my sweet little whore,” he murmured, placing his nose almost directly on hers. Lucius silver eyes bore hotly into her golden-brown orbs. She read his desire, his Domination. More heat flooded her core.

“I like having my hair pulled and my face slapped, Master,” she repeated, her voice trembling.

“You just _like_ it, Miss Granger?” Another blow struck her face and she grunted.

“I love it, Master!” Her voice was more confident this time. Her neck was becoming fatigued from holding her head up at such an odd angle, she dropped it a bit only to let out a squeak of pain when the movement ripped at her skull.

“Why do you love it, pet?” he prodded. Her mind raced, trying to figure out what he wanted from her.

“I love the way you hurt me!” she yipped when her too slow answer earned her another moderate slap on the face. There was a heavy silence and then Lucius’ hand was in her hair again to jerk her head up as his lips crashed down over hers. She growled into the kiss, unleashing her tongue to meet his stroke for stroke. His fingers twisted, pulling a gasp from her lungs.

“Why do you love the way I hurt you, Doll?” His lips caressed hers with the words, belying the roughness of his hand with the gentleness of his mouth.

“Because I’m your little whore,” she answered firmly and was rewarded with his tongue invading her mouth again.

Lucius was enjoying their session immensely. This was the first scene he’d had with her where he hadn’t felt the need to explain every little step as they went through them. Her immediate acquiescence and acceptance of what he was doing to her was making his Dominant side glow with pride and ecstasy. His needs were being deeply met for the first time in months – since his last contracted submissive almost a year ago. As her desperation for him increased, he felt safe in letting himself go just a bit more, turning up the intensity as she had requested.

“Yes, you are my little whore,” he cooed, ending their kiss and letting her hair go.  Slapping her face one last time, he told her, “I have a present for you my dear, would you like me to show you?”

“Yes, Master,” she murmured, eyes back on the floor. Her hair was pulled tightly back by the rope as she let her neck rest.

Hermione listened to him walking away from her and felt a slight anxiety creep up her spine. She always felt this way when he left her alone, like he was displeased with her. _It’s probably you thinking he’s upset with you that causes the anxiety, Hermione,_ she chided herself. _He’s not mad at you, he’s got a present for you!_ That last thought caused a shiver. Presents could go either way in this world. She snorted mentally.

“Look at me,” he said softly when he reappeared in front of her. “My naughty little witch told me she wants her bum filled, so I’m obliging.” He held out his hand, in it was a small glass anal plug.

“It’s pretty!” she said, her voice squeaking a bit with her surprise. Lucius laughed. _It is pretty!_ she thought, her cheeks flooding with heat at his mirth. It was made out of opaque black and Slytherin green glass that swirled around each other, he tipped it to show her the end and she stifled a chuckle. Imbedded into the flat end of the plug was a silver plate engraved with the Malfoy crest. _Conceited son of a bitch, isn’t he?_ she mused. _Any chance to mark his territory – typical male._

“I’m glad you think so,” he teased. “Open.”

Hermione dropped her sore jaw and he placed the egg shaped, bulbus end into her mouth like a perverted pacifier. This caused another giggle to escape her even as her blush darkened.

“Giggle all you want, Miss Granger, I’m going to slip that plug up your tight little arsehole and then spank you until you’re dripping with want,” he explained calmly. Those words caused a low rumble of need in her chest and her head fell forward again, her hair pulling on its restraints. She whimpered with the pain.

Lucius fingers lightly took the end of the plug again as he indicated for her to let it go. Hermione started panting lightly the moment he moved out of sight, anticipation flooding her belly with butterflies.

When Lucius rounded the stockade to find her bum dancing expectantly, he had to stop and cover his mouth to prevent himself from laughing aloud. Apparently, the little minx hadn’t been kidding when she told him how eager she was to move forward with anal play. He closed his fist around the plug and lightly swatted her butt cheek with the other hand, she made an enthusiastic sound and arched her back. “Please, Master,” she exclaimed.

“Please, what, Miss Granger?” he asked, dropping another slap to her other butt cheek.

“Will you spank me the way you did on Boxing Day?” She was panting heavily, and Lucius felt his cock slowly come back to life.

“Mm, request number two, pet.” He landed another crack on her upturned bum.

“Mmm! Please, Master, it made me so wet,” she groaned. “I was miserable for days after that spanking.” Lucius’ cock swelled further at her begging.

“Beg,” he told her, cracking her bum hard right where the globe met the juncture of her thighs.

“Please, please, please, Master,” she whimpered, her voice thick. “Please spank me, Master. I need it – I want it. Please?!” She cried out softly when another hard crack landed.

“After I put your plug in, pet,” he told her. “I’ll spank you like I did on Boxing Day and then I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight for the next day, how does that sound?” Another hard slap.

“Yes! Oh gods, yes Master! Please, please, please,” her bum was wiggling frantically again, and Lucius let out another low chuckle. Pulling his wand out of his pocket, he pointed it at her little hole and muttered a colon cleansing charm, smirking when she squealed. Then he silently summoned a tub of lubricant and dropped a dollop over her bum cheeks. She let out a surprised gasp at the cold and stilled when a finger followed the liquid down her crack to moisten the rosebud between her cheeks. Hermione moaned low, the sound maddening, and arched her back again.

Lucius could still hear her soft, frantic “pleases” as he pushed his pointer finger through the ring of muscles twisting and curling, making her cry out in an unsteady voice, “Yes, please!” Her pussy was glistening with her juices in the low light, and he pocketed the plug, so he could use his other hand to lightly slap her cunt. She jerked and groaned at the sensation then pushed back, seeking for more. More what? More pussy slaps? More fingers in her arse? He’d give her both.

Curling his pointer finger back, he added his middle finger and stretched the swirl of flesh further, causing her to snarl and shout nonsensically. Lucius dropped more light smacks on her dripping sex, focusing on the swollen nub of her clit. “Nnnnn!” Fuck, her noises were going to make him come!

“Such a dirty girl.” He spoke loudly, making sure she could hear him as he shook his fingers in her arse from side-to-side while simultaneously patting her pussy.

“Fuck!” Hermione shouted. “Oh, gods!” He paused in his ministrations before slowly pulling his fingers out. He moved to slide the plug in, pausing momentarily to let her feel the cool glass against her back entrance.

“Ready?”

“Yes, Master!” He almost laughed again at her enthusiasm. Slowly, he pushed the plug in past the tight ring of her arsehole. Being small the transition was fairly smooth.

Hermione panted through the sensation, wriggling again now that the plug was in place. “Fifty swats, love. Count.”

The first strike landed. “One!” Lucius started gently, building the intensity slowly. “Two!” He wouldn’t strike her harder than a five – maybe a six – this entire session was meant to work her into a fuzzy frenzy of frantic, furious need.

“Five!”

“Six!”

…

“Twenty-seven!...Twenty-eight!...Twenty-nine!” Lucius cock was marble cauldron hard at this point, and he was aching to sink himself into her velvety, wet heat. “Thirty-two!...Thirty-three!” He increased to a four for the next seven hits.

“Oh, fuck, Master! Forty-five!” Hermione panted with each hit, her mouth was bone dry and her bum was writhing and sore. If she could just get some friction on her mound, she knew she could stop dancing. _Three more, Hermione, then he’ll fuck you and let you come –at least I hope he’ll let me come!_

“Forty-eight!”

A six for strength.

“Forty-nine!...Fifty! Thank you, Master. Please fuck me now, Master!” The words exploded from her the moment her sentence (no matter how badly she had wanted that spanking, by the end of it – it had felt like a sentence) was over. She needed him in her – now. No, he wasn’t allowed to pause! She heard a zipper and a susurration of fabric and then he was slamming into her.

“Ah! Yes, oh! Thank you, Master!” The added weight and penetration of the plug only increased her pleasure. Lucius’ hands were bruising her hips with his grip and each slap of his pelvis against her on-fire-bum jolted the plug while his bullocks slapped her clit. “I’m going to come!”

“Not yet!” he told her. “Wait for me!”  
  
It was a growled demand and she moaned in protest before shouting, “Yes, Master!” Her fists clenched, and her brow furrowed as she concentrated on _not_ coming. Her shoulders slammed against the stockade with each jarring thrust. When she clenched her pelvic floor muscles, it caused a guttural snarl to be ripped from his chest and he upped his pace violently. She shouted nonsensically, pretty sure she was begging him to let her come, it was taking all the effort she had not to explode around his cock and the plug.

“Come!” he finally snarled and white lights exploded in front of her eyes as her body detonated.

“Uhhhnnnghhh!!!”

“Yes! Fuck, yes!” he roared, continuing to pound through their combined orgasm.

* * *

 

 


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

* * *

 

**Saturday January 13 th  
9:23 AM**

Good morning Doll,

I hope you slept well, love. You were utterly delectable last night. I’m writing with your instructions for your new toy, as promised. You will wear your plug every night – every night pet. I expect you to tell me if you forget and there will be five swats with a cane if you do. You will wear it to all our sessions. There may be other times I wish you to have it in as well. Those instructions will most likely be given via your journal. At each of our Friday sessions, I will enlarge it slightly until I feel you are ready to take my cock. Welcome to the world of anal play, pet. I do so hope you’re enjoying yourself.  
  
I will see you Wednesday but wish to warn you that unfortunately, my time will be short as I have to leave very early Thursday morning for a business meeting in France. If things go well at that meeting, I’ll be gone Saturday the 27th through the 28th as well. No fretting, though, I will return in plenty of time for our dinner on the 28th.  
  
Look for an owl package this week, I will be sending you an outfit to wear as part of your Friday training. Bring it with to the club, as it will not be appropriate to walk the streets in.

Wickedly yours,  
Master

* * *

Hermione could literally feel the air on her skin. Static electricity coursed over her epidermis leaving the fine hairs on her body standing at attention. Lucius had given her no warning or indication of what he had planned for her tonight. In truth, it was evidence of how well he understood her that he hadn’t. For if he had warned her, or merely informed her that she would be put on display for her Friday night training, she would have been a nervous wreck the whole week. Apprehension and worry would have plagued her the whole week, while at the same time she would have struggled with intense curiosity and undeniable want. There was no question she would have felt these conflicting emotions because they were torturing her right now.  Desire and dread were at war within her psyche, each vying to take control.

She closed her eyes and practiced her yoga breathing as she knelt beside the platform while Lucius prepared the scene. She had known he had something special planned the minute she walked into the club and was greeted by a knowing smile on his face. A smile that held delicious promise. It was a smile that screamed “I have a secret!” Her trembles of anticipation had started from that very moment, long before she knew what he had in store.

He had taken her to private room number six, a room which was like many dens or living rooms in homes throughout the world. A crackling fireplace on the far wall was faced with an inviting settee, including a plush sofa and two cushioned oversized chairs. It was a room for relaxed conversation. He had sat her on his lap and whispered the promises of what the night would hold, all while tenderly stroking his fingertips along her jaw, over her sensitized breasts and down her arms and legs.

His voice had been sultry, and it’s whispered tenor had tickled the skin behind her left ear _. “Tonight, my little lioness, we will be exploring the voyeuristic side of your fetish. You will be displayed for all to see. Members will bear witness to your arousal as your bottom is put on display with it’s plug. A plug which bears my crest and proclaims to all that your delectable bottom belongs to me. Furthermore, a few select and experienced Dom’s will be granted the privilege of spanking you. They will be allowed to speak to you as they please but will not be allowed to hurt you. These are not punishment spankings, they are for your desire and my pleasure.”_

His whispered words had left her on fire with anticipation, but as soon as she left the security of his lap and the calming comfort of room number six, the reality of what she was about to do sunk in.  She had been a bundle of nerves from that second on, which led to this moment right here. The moment of truth. She had given voyeurism a four out of five on her list. Now she wondered if perhaps she had been a little too optimistic with that score. Her experience with Rose had not only been the first time she had ever displayed herself in such a way, but also her first time touching or being touched by a woman in a sexual manner. It had been intoxicating. However, having Rose’s hands and mouth on her as Etan’s commanding presence and voice dictated the scene had distracted her and kept her mind from focusing too much on the fact that she was naked in front of a room full of strangers.

This time it would be very different. She was going to be the lone attraction. She would not have the distraction of Rose’s soft touches, lips, and body. It was going to be her bottom and her vulnerability on display. She would be made to stay still as members approached and gazed upon her naked bum with its jeweled butt plug that screamed Property of Malfoy.  She suddenly realized she would have to make an effort to keep her quim from showing. Perhaps if she kept her legs pressed tightly together…

“Come, Doll. Your perch is prepared.”

Hermione stood on wobbly legs and faced the dais that had been set for her. Under the soft spotlight was a red leather wingback chair. Behind the chair was a rack with a small rubber paddle, a large wooden paddle, a cane, a black leather flogger, and two brown leather riding crops. Stage left of the chair and on the floor was a small, red-velvet kneeling pillow and stage right of the chair was a red-velvet, padded whipping bench. Above the stage was a mirror that presented a bird’s eye view onto the platform.

Lucius held his hand out to her as she climbed the three small steps onto the platform next to him. He could tell she was talking herself into a state of nervous frenzy and knew he needed to calm her in order to proceed. Pulling her close, he wrapped an arm around her to envelop her to his chest and she snuggled into him, clearly comforted by his embrace. He gently tilted her chin up and met her eyes with soft and tender reassurance. “I’ll take care of you. I promise, pet. You trust your Master, don’t you?”

“Yes, Master.” Hermione’s words were whispered and slightly shaky.

“If at any point I feel it becomes too much I will put a stop to the proceedings immediately. Pleasure through humiliation, pet…it’s a heady thing. So far, you’ve enjoyed the little taste I’ve given you. Tonight, we simply turn up the heat a notch. It’s something I feel confident you will enjoy…immensely.” Lucius could feel her trembling subside a bit at his words. “You are mine, Doll. I take care of what I own; I take care of the people I love, and you my little seductress are both.” Lucius felt a weight lift at his confession. She now knew he loved her, even if she would assume it to be a friendship type of adoration. She was now aware of the depth of that devotion.

Lucius swallowed heavily as her eyes misted over. His heart began to pound when her warm words mirrored his own and were spoken without hesitation. “Thank you. Master. I love you, too. Your mentorship and friendship mean the world to me.” He could see the sincerity in her caramel eyes and the warmth he felt from her confession left him feeling high.

Grounding himself to the task at hand, he kissed her forehead. “Come, Doll. Kneel on the pillow and we shall begin.”

* * *

Snape watched monitor number four from the confines of the office. His witch was exquisite, Lucius had outdone himself this time. Hermione was dressed in a see-through, black-lace camisole. Glimpses of her pale skin and pink nipples could be caught through the lacy fabric. The camisole fell to her hips and it appeared she wasn’t wearing panties. It was the perfect mix of innocence and sex. Her hair was in a long, thick, French braid with a green and sliver ribbon tied into an innocent little bow at its tail. He shook his head with amusement. Here they were, grown men who still felt the need to claim their allegiance to their house at Hogwarts. It was a simple truth, though. _Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin._ Snape chuckled…and then he stopped while he watched with unconcealed jealousy as Lucius pulled Hermione close and whispered words of obvious encouragement and seduction into her ear. Snape could clearly see her trembling subside the longer Lucius spoke. The man had such a talent for knowing exactly what a witch needed to hear in order to coax her to his will. Snape had watched the wizard perfect his craft over the years and found himself in awe of his friend’s intuitive ability. Plainly, Hermione was like the countless others and was not immune to the blond’s charms.

Snape leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily, trying to keep his desire in check as he watched Hermione kneel delicately on the pillow. Oh, what he would give to be that pillow. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and could almost remember how good she tasted. He could almost envision every fold of her pretty little cunt _. Fuck_. His arousal would not be denied, and he stroked his length through the outside of his trousers while contemplating bringing a willing submissive to his office to blow him. He glanced about the other monitors and found no witches that peaked his interest. Snape noticed Britt was back and in the company of Callum. The redhead had spent almost every evening at the club and every one of those evenings had been in the company of the young Dominant. Severus found he was not the least bit bothered by her new conquest. He wished her happiness and was glad she had moved on without drama.

He spotted a petite brunette whom he had noticed a couple times. She wasn’t a new member, but she didn’t come to the club very often. It would be easy to go down and approach her to see if she was interested. He could bring her back to the office and watch Hermione on the screen as he took his use of the girl. After a pause, Snape felt a ping of disgust with himself. It felt wrong to use the girl in such a way and he decided he would not do it. Sighing again, he unzipped his placket and released his throbbing cock. His eyes back on Hermione, Snape began to stroke himself.

* * *

Hermione sat still as Lucius stood and waved his wand. The spotlight brightened a smidge but remained soft as it shone down on them. A small crowd began to assemble as it became obvious a presentation was about to begin _. You can do this, Hermione_. She felt comfort in her mask. _Very few people know who you actually are._ _You are just a faceless witch to most of the members._ She swallowed as a pinch of disappointment began to grow within. The truth was, wearing her mask made her feel like she wasn’t fully participating. The other witches and wizards didn’t wear their masks when they performed or wandered through the private parts of the club. Why did she feel so compelled to hide herself? They had all signed non-disclosures. She was being a coward. Lucius had asked her if she wanted to keep her mask on and she had grasped at that option instantly, but it left her feeling like a fraud.

Hermione was pulled from her inner self reprimand by Lucius’ words. He stood before the room in a white linen button down shirt tucked into charcoal grey trousers. His hair was parted down the middle and left to drape past his shoulders. Speaking slowly, he punctuated each word with his rich and sultry tone. There was no need for him to be particularly loud, as talking amongst the crowd ceased entirely the moment he began his to address them. “Ladies and Gentlemen, tonight for your visual pleasure, I present the Doll of The Dungeon. Doll is in my training and is discovering her naughty side which has been screaming for release. This dirty little witch will come to me now and bend over the bench, displaying for you the little gift I have bestowed on her.”

Hermione took his cue and stood up slowly before passing the chair to the bench on the other side. This was when she noticed the second large mirror placed at the back of the stage. The second mirror and the one above left no doubt that spectators would see every little inch of her from any chosen angle. She felt a thrill of excitement as she took Lucius’ offered hand and bent over the bench, facing the crowd. Sucking in her bottom lip, she glanced up and saw the audience looking at the mirrors, clearly getting a nice view of her bottom.

Hermione startled when Lucius crouched next to her face, his teasing as he whispered softly into her ear. “Look at them, pet. They are all looking at the mirrors. They can see you squeezing your thighs together fruitlessly. Your pink, juicy quim can not be hidden, pet. They can see it poking through. Some are imagining what your pussy feels like, others are imagining what it tastes like. Many are imagining fingering and fucking you.”

His hand stroked her soft globes and a finger slid along her moist heat. “Oh my…you _are_ enjoying this aren’t you?” He laughed lightly as he stood and walked away.

Hermione didn’t need Lucius to tell her she was wet – she could feel it. His words had caused her to gush. Watching the crowd, she tried to imagine what they were thinking. Was Lucius correct? Were they seeing themselves touching her, tasting her…fucking her? Could they see how wet she was? She closed her eyes and willed her breathing to slow. Liquid heat of arousal was no longer just simmering, it was starting to boil. When she opened her eyes again, she noticed many faces were smiling and chuckling, no doubt finding humor in the Malfoy crested plug stuck up her bum. Others were simply watching as though it were nothing to see such a thing on display.

Her eyes shot to movement on her right where a witch was standing behind another, whispering into her ear. The one doing the whispering, was massaging the other’s breast as she pointed up at the mirror. The other witch, the witch whom Hermione ventured might be a submissive, was blushing a beet red.

Lucius sat on the chair and tapped his leg. “Come, my naughty little one. Bend over my lap like a good slut.” His voice carried so that all could hear, and Hermione felt the heat of her blush. Warmth crept up her chest and neck to her face and left her ears feeling as though they were on fire. She did as he instructed, bending over his lap with her legs draped behind her and her hands grasping his calves. The chair was tall, and her short frame left her unable to leave her hands or her feet on the floor. She felt like a small school girl being spanked in front of the class and shifted nervously as that thought left her even more aroused.

She felt his hand on her bottom once again, as his other stroked her sopping pussy. He slid two fingers inside and pumped them in and out quickly. She couldn’t help the soft, desperate moan that escaped her lips. Hermione was so wet the sloshing of his hand made him laugh. “Oh, Doll. This is just too much.”

Lucius looked up at the crowd. “It seems my little slut is enjoying this display very much. If you could all be silent for just a moment.” The crowd grew quiet and Lucius once again began to finger her aggressively. She was so wet, she could feel splatter on her thighs as his fingers pumped her like a jackhammer. With the silence of the crowd, her sloshing pussy could likely be heard at the back of the room. A couple gasps met her ears as well as laughing. She felt him spin her butt plug as his other hand continued to work in and out of her swollen and wet passage.

When his thumb began to stroke her clit, her legs fell open without her conscious thought. Any last-ditch attempt at decorum or control completely left her. She sounded like a car engine trying to start as staccato grunts, which matched the pace of his fingers, escaped her lips. The coil inside her was about to spring and her words were barely audible, “Master, I’m going to come.”

“Ah, that’s it my little slut. Come for your Master. Come all over my hand.”

White flashes materialized before her closed eyes as her womb shuttered its release. She let out a shriek as her pussy pulsed and pulsed. She heard a gasp from the crowd and a loud _splat_ behind her. Lucius chuckled. “Perhaps we should have provided a warning that the first two rows of spectators run the risk of getting wet.” He smirked out at the crowd. “You might want to stand back, my friends. Then again, you might not.”  He looked down at his witch and grabbed her braid, yanking her head back. He placed his dripping fingers in front of her mouth. “Lick them clean, naughty girl.”

Draco stood at the back of the room, unable to resist watching. There was laughter at Lucius’ taunt after Hermione spectacularly squirted her release about a foot behind her. She had not come anywhere near hitting a spectator, but Lucius was clearly enjoying teasing her. Draco watched his father beam as he stroked Hermione’s head tenderly. He contemplated his father’s tenderness as the normally stoic man bent down to kiss her shoulder, followed by a whisper in her ear. Draco had seen his father on stage a few times over the years, but not once had he ever seen his father smile on stage. Lucius’ presentations were always of a more serious nature, but he was clearly enjoying the show his submissive was displaying.

The young Malfoy watched as Hermione stood and walked to the bench. Positioning herself behind it, she faced the crowd before draping herself over it, leaving her bottom on display via the mirrors. Draco noticed something silver and green in her bum and stepped closer. His eyebrows spiked to his hairline in disbelief. _Is that…is that the Malfoy crest? A butt plug with my family crest on it?_ His hand rose to his mouth as he let out a sigh _. Unbelievable_.

Draco shook his head lightly in continued amusement as his father stood and spoke to the crowd. “For the next part of our demonstration, Doll will experience her very first public spanking. I’m sure you will all agree what a special occasion this is for most submissives.”

There was a rumbling of the crowd, a few claps and murmurs of agreement. Draco watched as Lucius stepped beside and slightly behind Hermione. He spoke quietly, and the curly-haired witch mouthed, “Yes, Master.”

Hermione felt like she was floating. Still coming down from one of the most intense orgasms of her life, she draped herself over the bench. She knew the crowd was in front of her but at this point the room could have been empty for all she cared. The only voice she could hear was Lucius’ as he instructed her to count and thank him for each smack with his hand. She closed her eyes, prepared for the first hit.

_SMACK_

“One. Thank you, Master.”

_SMACK_

“Two. Thank you, Master.”

His libido now contained from his wank in the office, Snape quietly stepped next to Draco. He watched in silence as Hermione counted out each smack. Lucius was not striking her with much force, which Snape knew was by design. Based on what Lucius had told him, Hermione was likely to have a very tender bottom by the end of the night and Snape knew Lucius would have to take it easy on her if she were going to last. As Snape’s eyes stayed glued to the mirror, he found his gaze drawn to the shiny, crested plug in her bottom. Lucius really was a peacock – the man had no shame when it came to showing off. Snape’s eyes next ventured to her quim, he could see how wet she was even from all the way back here. She was so incredibly responsive that he couldn’t help but wish he was the one on stage spanking her.

He leaned against the wall behind him, crossing his arms over his chest as others continued to file into the room. A flash of red caught his attention and he turned his head to see Britt being led by Callum. Her eyes were focused on the stage as Callum whispered in her ear. Snape regretted staring too long when Britt’s eyes flashed to his and a small knowing smile graced her lips. He looked away quickly, focusing back on the stage.

_SMACK_

“Twenty. Thank you, Master.”

Snape watched as Lucius rubbed her now pink bottom and whispered words of encouragement before stepping away to address the crowd. “Please show your hand if you would like a turn at spanking this beautiful creature before you.” There were whispers as a few hands shot up instantly, others were more hesitant.

 _What is he doing?_ Snape wondered with no small bit of irritation. He and Draco glanced at each other, both clearly surprised by where this was going. Snape was perplexed, it was not like Lucius to share his submissives – unless it was with Snape himself. Lucius and Severus had shared many submissives over the years, but the pompous wizard rarely let any other Dominants touch his witches.

Draco leaned close, clearly thinking along the same lines. “It must because he’s training her. He’s doing this for her, not for himself.”

Snape nodded lightly. “Yes, possibly.”

Lucius stepped close to Hermione and squatted next to her, gesturing to the crowd. Snape watched as her caramel eyes scanned the audience before she whispered back to Lucius who stood with a smile. “Etan, would you do the honors, please?” Snape had not noticed Etan and Rose at the front of the room. Clearly, Lucius had let Hermione choose. Snape could feel heat rise within as the green monster began to poke at his consciousness. He really hated other men touching his witch _. Of all times for Lucius to become selfless!_ Why couldn’t he be the same selfish Dominant he always was; unwilling to share unless Snape himself took an interest?

Willing himself to remain calm, Snape watched as Etan stepped onto the dais. Wanting to be able to hear, Snape and Draco both moved through the crowd, making their way closer to the stage. They both watched as Lucius spoke softly to Etan, reminding the man to not strike the plug. It was an unnecessary reminder, Snape knew Etan was very well versed with safety and would not hurt Hermione. He couldn’t blame Lucius for the whispered reminder, all the same.

Etan’s voice rose over the group of observers. “Thank you for choosing me, Doll. You have a gorgeous arse and I can’t wait to spank it.” Etan sat in the chair and beckoned Hermione over his lap. Snape swallowed his envy and frustration as his witch draped herself over the Dominant’s legs. “No need to count, my sweet.” His hand rubbed the pink globes of her bottom and he shifted slightly. Inhaling deeply, Etan’s eyes grew wide as he looked at her bottom and then back up at Lucius. “She smells positively delightful. How ever do you control yourself?”

Hermione let out a mewl of desperate need, and Etan’s eyes dropped down to the witch draped over his lap. “Ha! Eager are we, my sweet? Not to worry. Have you ever come from a spanking alone?” She shook her head.

Lucius’ voice rang out over the crowd. “You have permission to answer the Dominants who spank you this evening, Doll. You may answer Master Etan’s question.”

The room was quiet, awaiting to hear the voice of the displayed submissive. Her answer was light and tremulous. “No, sir. I’ve never come from a spanking alone.”

“Well, then. Something to aspire to.” Laughter from the spectators stopped immediately when Etan turned back to Lucius. “My friend, might I trouble you for the small paddle behind you? That is… if you will allow it?”

Lucius contemplated for a few seconds. “I’ll allow it, but nothing too painful, Etan. This is not a punishment and Doll has been very good tonight.”

“No, of course not. This is for her pleasure, my friend.”

Lucius handed Etan the paddle and the younger man leaned forward, whispering something in her ear.

Snape let out a huff of frustration, he wanted to hear. He startled when Draco touched his arm. “Relax, Godfather. Father would have stopped the scene if Etan had said anything inappropriate. It’s Etan, after all, he adores her.”

 _Yes, that’s what I’m worried about._  Taking another breath, Snape reined in his emotions as he continued to watch.

Hermione lay still as Etan rubbed her bottom. She looked to her side at Rose who was smiling at her with encouragement.

_SLAP!_

Hermione jumped at the sound of the impact. She thought about that for a second and decided had been the sound and not the impact that had startled her. She wondered if the paddle had been charmed to be loud – it certainly hadn’t hurt. Although it did leave a warmth in its wake.

_SLAP!_

The second was as loud as the first. It left her bum heated but held very little sting. Finding she missed the sting, she surprised herself when she said, “Sir. You can strike me harder,” a pause, “If you’d like that is, sir.”

Light laughter escaped Etan’s mouth. “Oh, I like my sweet. Believe me, I like.” Etan looked up at Lucius for approval who nodded his assent, while containing his smile.

_SLAP!_

A loud gasp burst from Hermione’s lips as the sting from the paddle surprised her.

“Better, my sweet?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Hermione closed her eyes and found the bite from the paddle to be calming and it offered her the distraction she was beginning to need. Having long come down from her orgasm, she was much more aware of the room around her and the many eyes glued to her face and to the mirrors above and behind those on stage.

As the paddle continued to rain down on her, she felt her arousal beginning to build all over again. When the paddle struck low and lightly over her quim, she couldn’t contain the squeal that escaped. She found herself able to once again drown out the crowd as Etan continued his assault. Another light smack to her quim left her panting.

“I think that’s good for now, Etan. Thank Master Etan, Doll.”

Hermione felt regret that the spanking was over. “Thank you, Sir.”

Etan helped her slide off his lap and onto her trembling legs. “My pleasure, Doll. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble achieving orgasm via spanking.” He was smiling warmly at her. There was no teasing or ridicule, it was as though he were genuinely excited she could attain such a thing. She felt a glimmer of pride at his confidence in her and watched as he stepped off the stage before Lucius approached her, standing close.

Her Master’s right hand moved to her bottom and rubbed it tenderly as he looked out at the crowd. His hand inched lower as he stroked her wet sex. Unable to stop herself, she arched her back slightly, granting him better access to her now aching quim. He stroked her hardening nub, eliciting a soft, throaty grunt. He whispered into her ear. “Would you like to come, Doll? I sense you are very close.”

“Oh, please Master! Yes!”

Britt watched Lucius’ submissive with mild interest. The scene was really nothing terribly profound, at least not in her opinion. However, the Dominants around the room seemed to be chomping at the bit with their excitement. Then again, they often thirsted for the innocent ones – the ones who were new and easily impressed. Dominants could have fragile egos sometimes. It took a lot to impress the more experienced subs, like herself, but newbies could be easily wowed. No. What was happening on the stage was rather boring and Britt’s attention was easily pulled to her former Dominant who was making his way closer to the front. Despite Britt’s easy dismissal of the witch on the stage, the tiny little thing clearly held Snape’s interest. He would not have bothered to even watch such an elementary display if he weren’t intrigued. Britt found herself wondering again if this masked witch meant something to Snape. Who was she anyway? Why did she always wear a mask? Was she so uncomfortable with her innate desires that she couldn’t even own up to them in a club such as this? No one cared who she was except her. Everyone was sworn to secrecy within the club, so why was she hiding her identity?

Her mind was beginning to wander to thoughts of the fun she and Callum could be having right now if he would take her to a private room. She looked back at him demurely and internally rolled her eyes when she saw how focused he was on the girl on stage. _Oh honestly!_

Letting out an internal huff of boredom she watched as Master Etan exited the platform. She hoped the show was coming to an end. She found her mind wandering to thoughts of errands she would need to run the next day as Lucius was stroking his submissive on the stage. She lazily looked up as Lucius stepped away from the witch and gestured into the crowd.

“Master Snape, would you perhaps be available to assist?”

 _What?!_  Surprise and jealousy raced through Britt to her core as Snape was on the dais in a flash. She hadn’t realized the wizard could move that fast.

 _What?!_ Shock and instant desire raced through Hermione to her core as Severus was on the stage in a flash. _How did he get up here so fast?_

Hermione was suddenly a bundle of nerves as the object of her greatest desire was standing less than three feet away. _Lucius asked Snape to the stage? To assist?_ No. Never in her wildest dreams would she have foreseen this. If Lucius allowed Severus to spank her on stage she would be a goner for sure. There would be no coming back to earth from such a moment.

Taking deep calming breaths her eyes perused the crowd. Draco was now standing front and center, a smirk on his face. She gave him a small smile. To the right stood Rose wrapped in Etan’s arms as he whispered in her ear and beside them stood Jonathan and Clarise. Hermione was thrilled when she saw Jonathan was not only standing beside Clarise, but he was wearing her collar as well. Clearly, they had made up.

The wizards were whispering behind her. Trying to contain her nervous excitement, Hermione continued to scan the crowd and swallowed heavily when her eyes landed on Britt. Britt the beautiful and perfect submissive whom Severus preferred over all the others. She imagined her scene with Lucius would seem like child’s play to such an experienced submissive. Hermione couldn’t help but compare her own performance to that of the redhead’s with Severus only a couple of months before. Seeing the woman made Hermione feel suddenly inferior. The confidence and arousal of moments before was slipping away. Britt didn’t hide behind a mask. Britt could take a proper caning. Britt could make Severus happy.

“Doll, come lean over the bench.”  Hermione quickly moved as instructed and leaned over the bench as she had earlier. Her body trembled like a puddle in an earthquake as Severus stepped around her to her right side.

Lucius’ voice once again rang over the crowd. “An experiment, ladies and gentlemen. Master Etan brought forth a reasonable question. Can Doll climax from a spanking alone? I think she can. And Doll, if you do? You will be rewarded greatly later this evening.”

Hermione held no doubt she could do this – it wasn’t even a question. The thought of Lucius and Severus spanking her at the same time was more than she could take. She would come in a flash. Hell, all Severus would have to do is talk Italian as Lucius spanked her and she would come like a freight train with no brakes.

“Kiss the crops, my dear.” Hermione stilled as each wizard stood on either side of her, holding the tips of their riding crops before her mouth. She stretched her neck as she puckered out her lips. Both Dominants chuckled as they held the implements just out of her reach. She let out a grunt of frustration. Instant heat and pain stung her left butt cheek as the punishing swat of Lucius’ crop landed. “Patience, Doll. You’ve been very good up until this point.”

“Yes, Master. I’m sorry, Master.”

Lucius grabbed her braid and pulled her head back, causing her back to arch. His eyes roved lazily over her form, pausing on her pussy. “Look at that inviting, juicy cunt. So nice and wet. Such a good little slut.” He released her braid. “Don’t you think so Snape?”

As she slinked back into position, Hermione literally felt her quim quiver when Severus’ lazy baritone droned out deliciously, “Hmm, we shall see, Lucius. She certainly seems to be enjoying herself right now. Her pretty pussy’s leaking so profusely, I think we might need a plumber.”  Neither Snape nor Lucius missed the needy growl that sounded like a purr, her back arching a smidge as she rubbed her thighs together. They gave each other a knowing smirk. It was obvious their verbal taunts were whipping her arousal into a frenzy. Snape added for good measure, “Only a truly naughty and sexually depraved little tramp would climax from the kiss of two riding crops alone. I’m not sure this little witch has it in her.”

 _Oh yes, she does! I’ll be the dirtiest little slut ever to grace this platform!_ Hermione would not be teased, and she would not be doubted. She also would not hide from herself any longer. Without pausing to think, she pulled off her mask and tossed it into Draco’s surprised hands. Gasps rang out and whispers could be heard.

_“Is that Hermione Granger?”_

_“Hermione Granger is a submissive?”_

_“Do her friends know?”_

_“Could Harry Potter be into this as well? Is he here?”_

Britt’s jaw fell to the floor as the pieces all came together. _Hermione-fucking-Granger_. War heroine and now a fucking submissive. Suddenly Britt’s confidence melted to the floor. She held _nothing_ on this witch and knew the battle was lost before it had even begun. Her eyes shot to Snape’s whose gaze was only on the witch bent before him. Lust was in his dark orbs. Pure, unadulterated lust. Lust Britt herself had only seen from the wizard a handful of times. She felt ill and had to choke back a sob as the reality that she had lost Snape forever crashed down on her.

Hermione couldn’t help but look towards Britt. She was finally exposed, there were no more secrets. She was strong like the redhead and could own up to her desires. She might not be able to take a hard caning on stage…yet, but she would get there.

Only, what she saw on Britt’s face did not fuel her fire in the least. She saw what Hermione had been seeing in the mirror up until the last couple of weeks. Heartbreak. Devasting and all encompassing. Hermione could only guess the source of that pain. Was the redhead in love with Snape?

She wouldn’t gloat, and she wouldn’t take joy in another witch’s misery. It could still be Hermione’s fate after all. Instead, she looked away, sparing the redhead’s humiliation at discovery.

Her focus was jolted back to her wizards when the crops were tapped on her lips, kissing them each in turn. She felt her arousal resume its climb as she quickly forgot about Britt and found herself instantly wrapped up in her own predicament.

Lucius spoke slowly and tauntingly. “Yes, everyone. This witch has revealed herself at last. Strong, brilliant, and beautiful. Vanquisher of Dark wizards. And. A. Slut.”

The crowd had gone completely silent.

Suddenly a slap landed on her left butt cheek as Lucius’ crop struck. It was quickly followed by a slap with matching intensity by Snape’s crop on the right.

Severus’ rich baritone, or _Snape-tone_ as she had christened it, caused her throat to rumble with uncontained desire. “Look at you…your bottom in the air. Your pussy on display with your juices running down your thighs.  What would your little friends think if they could see you now? Hmm?”

Hermione swallowed heavily. Before she could even fathom a response, all conscious thought left her as both wizards rained smacks on her butt cheeks one after the other, each occasionally slapping her clit and eliciting small squeals of pleasure.

Lucius leaned down and whispered, “He’s right you know. Your juices are running down your thighs. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this wet.”

He righted himself and they each began focusing all their attentions on her clit, smacking it quickly and lightly, one after the other.

Unable to exercise any control of herself, Hermione had spread her legs wide and was gyrating her hips forward and back as the familiar coil within began to twist and tighten. Wanton moans rolled off her lips and she panted as once again lights flashed before her eyes. A loud anguished groan echoed throughout the room, but Hermione never realized it had come from her. She was lost – lost in the most intense and all-encompassing orgasm of her life. Her quim convulsed and convulsed and then convulsed some more and she could feel liquid gush and squirt out of her. Distant and hazy claps and cheers echoed throughout the room and she suddenly felt like Jell-O. Her body lost its strength as strong arms scooped her up and held her. Lucius. It was Lucius. She could tell by his smell. She kept her eyes closed and buried her face in his neck as he sat in the chair and held her.

Slowly she felt her faculties return as Severus approached her with a bottle of water. Looking up into his dark irises, she smiled as she took the bottle. “Thank you, Sir.”

There was no mistaking the flash of desire in his eyes. “No, princess. Thank _you_.” She felt a deep sense of loss when he turned away and quickly stepped off the dais, working his way through the crowd until she could no longer see him.

Turning her eyes up to Lucius’ face, she was met with warmth and a tender smile that made her feel like goo. “I did good, Master?”

Laughing at her misuse of the English language, Lucius grinned roguishly. “Oh, Doll. You did real good.” Hermione’s eyes lit up as she realized he was teasing her. She giggled as her body continued to calm.

“Pet, do you think you have one more spanking in you tonight?”

Hermione was shocked. _More?_

“I won’t make you, it’s your choice. It’s something that’s as much for Draco as it is for you.”

Fully alert now, Hermione’s curiosity was peaked. “Are you going to have Draco spank me?”

He laughed. “No, pet. It’s a surprise.”

Finding her confidence high and her desire to please even higher, she felt she could take on anyone. “Yes, Master. Whatever you desire.”

“Thank you, my dear.” Helping her stand, Lucius assisted her to her kneeling pillow and held her hand as she took position. The crowd had started to disperse assuming the show was over. When Lucius began to speak people paused and re-approached the dais. “I have one more Dominant whom I wish to introduce to you all this evening. She is new to The Dungeon but comes with high words of praise from our friends across the pond.”

Hermione noticed Severus was standing next to Draco, conversing with him and had to wonder if Severus knew about this plan of Lucius’. Suddenly, her Master’s words echoed in her head. _Wait – **she?!**_

“Please take the time to introduce yourselves and make welcome our newest Dominatrix, Mistress M.” Lucius gestured to where the witch was watching from the back of the room.

Once again, the crowd grew silent as all eyes moved towards the right corner. Out of the shadowed alcove, the statuesque mystery goddess slowly sauntered towards the platform. The room’s inhabitants parted for her as she made her way to the stage. No longer sporting a mask, but wearing heavy eye make-up, the witch still remained a mystery. She was beyond beautiful. Long, chestnut-brown locks pulled into a high pony tail and sky-blue eyes on a curvaceous, tall form. She wore a black bustier bodysuit which was covered in a black see-through mesh dress. The dress was high collared with long sleeves and hugged her voluptuous figure all the way to her knees where the sported little black shoestring ties that kept the it tight at the hem. She looked like an amazon supermodel – all breasts and hips with a small waist.

Hermione couldn’t help but glance at Draco and Snape. The latter had an amused look on his face and Draco looked like he was going to cream himself any minute. The blond moved towards the stage, his eyes on the mystery Domme’s hips as he followed at a safe distance.

Mistress M climbed the steps gracefully in four-inch, black patent leather pumps. Lucius bowed his head politely. “Mistress M.”

“Master Lucius”, she purred.

Hermione couldn’t help the rush of arousal at this bombshell before her. Arousal mixed with trepidation. This woman could squash Hermione like a gnat.

Her voice was sultry and smooth like vocal liquid caramel. “Well, if it isn’t Little. Miss. Priss.”

 _What?!_ Hermione’s eyes grew wide as the witch draped herself into the chair like a queen before her subjects. Her arms draped over the arm rests as she looked out over the crowd.

Hermione shot Lucius a curious glance and found him with a barely concealed smile. Clearly, he found this situation amusing.

She looked back at the seductress to find the woman’s eyes grazing up and down her body. For some reason, Hermione felt more exposed under this woman’s gaze than she had all night. She could feel that her nipples were taut peaks of sensitivity and the lace of her camisole lightly tickled them with each inhalation of air. “So, Miss Priss. Why don’t you climb on M’s lap like the good little swot you are?” The woman was patting her thighs, the creamy white showing through the mesh of the dress.

Hermione stood slowly and approached the intimidating woman. Mistress M laughed with delight as she held up her hands and gave Hermione a mock innocent smirk. “Aww, don’t be afraid Miss Priss. I don’t bite…much.”

Hermione heard Draco let out a desperate whimper from only feet away. She let out a breath and tapped once more into her inner Gryffindor as she lightly leaned forward over Mistress M’s lap. The brunette placed her long red-nailed fingers over the backs of Hermione’s thighs and slid the petite witch forward as though she weighed no more than a feather. She found herself in the same predicament as she had on Lucius and Etan’s laps – her hands and feet didn’t reach the floor.

Her voice still sultry and slow, Mistress M purred, “You know, when Lucius approached me about spanking you, I was more than happy to oblige. But you can’t imagine my surprise when you pulled off your mask. It’s like Christmas has come early and this Dominatrix was at the top of the good girl list. Of course, Santa _knows_ I’m a good girl. I spank his bottom every year.”

Laughs from the crowd couldn’t conceal another whimper from Draco. Eyes pulled to the younger Malfoy, Hermione found he was practically drooling with desire. Clearly realizing the effect she was having on the blond boy, Mistress M chuckled. “Oh, Drakey. Too bad you’re such a prat.”

Lucius was outright belly laughing at his son’s expense. Draco didn’t seem phased at all by the rebuff. Instead his eyes grew wide as obvious awareness of her true identity hit him like a lightening bolt. Only one witch had ever called him a prat to his face at Hogwarts and she had done it from year one to year seven. He couldn’t believe it was her. “Holy mother of Merlin,” he whispered.

Her eyes danced with mirth. “Just Mistress M will do, Drakey.”

The Dominatrix’s hands began to stroke up and down Hermione’s thighs as her focus returned to the witch across her lap. “Oh, Miss Priss. Finally, I get to spank your little bottom. You can’t imagine the torture I endured year after year as you flung your hand in the air at every question and in every class. It was exhausting.”

Hermione couldn’t help but look up when Severus’ barely concealed chuckle echoed throughout the silent crowd. A crowd that seemed to be stunned by the newcomer. A soft gasp to the left drew Hermione’s gaze towards Britt for the second time that night. The redhead’s hand was over her mouth and her wide eyes were on Severus before moving back to Hermione. The two witches locked gazes, Hermione’s with curiosity and Britt’s with what Hermione felt was shock? Despair maybe? The entire exchange took less than a few seconds and then Britt turned on her heels and pushed her way out of the room.

Soft rubs on her bottom pulled her focus back to the witch whose lap she was draped over. Hermione’s brain raced, trying to figure out the witch’s identity. Then it hit her; she didn’t know why it had taken so long. The voice was more controlled and sultrier, but there was no denying who this witch was. She had transformed from a bullying, mean, frumpy, and unpopular garden snake into a sexual python. Millicent Bulstrode had come a long way. Although the jury was still out on the bullying and mean part – the witch was certainly enjoying her torment of Hermione right now.

A moan escaped Mistress M’s lips as she tenderly continued to stroke Hermione’s thighs and bottom. “Lucius, her skin is delectable. It makes me want to nibble her from her toes to her tits.”

“A spanking only, M,” Lucius cautioned.

Murmurs from the crowd reminded Hermione she was still on display. It was surprising to Hermione how quickly and easily she could remove the audience from her concern. Yet at the same time she found being watched aroused her. It aroused her more than she had remembered with Rose and more than she thought possible.

Homing in her minds wanderings, she considered how comfortable she was in this witch’s lap. If Hermione had been blindfolded, she would still know she was in a woman’s clutches. The lap felt completely different from the wizards of earlier. Soft cradling thighs coupled with tender strokes from Millicent’s silky fingers and nails felt oddly soothing and arousing. The witch was a walking oxymoron. Her words were teasing and meant to intimidate, yet she had a body that was inviting and made for comfort. Wide hips and large thighs nestled Hermione and with the nurturing strokes of M’s feminine hand, Hermione felt quite complacent. What’s more, the witch smelled feminine and sweet and Hermione could feel twinges of arousal stirring within her. She could feel herself flush as she wished she could nuzzle into the woman’s large breasts. _What is wrong with you? You are on Millicent Bulstrode’s lap! The witch would sooner snap you like a twig than comfort you._

Hermione’s thoughts zapped from comforting thighs and breasts to the spanking that was heading her way when she felt a tap on her butt plug.  “This is lovely, Lucius.”

“Yes, I’m quite fond of it myself,” Lucius responded with a lazy drawl.

Hermione felt M’s soft hands begin to massage the globes of her bum. “Your bum is nice and pink, Miss Priss. I would like to turn it a bit more red. Pink is such a passé color. What do you think?”

“Whatever pleases you, Ma’am.”

“Ahh, such manners. I might actually be _fond_ of you, Miss Priss.” Mistress M leaned down a touch and breathed in deeply. She laughed lightly. “And I would judge by your smell, you might actually be quite fond of me as well.” Hermione hadn’t thought she could blush after all that had happened tonight, but this witch’s teasing and sensual strokes were rattling the axis of Hermione’s self-awareness. She had not known a woman could bring her to such a state. It wasn’t just beauty and verbal swagger that had her going, it dawned on Hermione that it was the familiarity. This witch actually knew her, perhaps not very well, but they had a history. There was a touch of truth to this witch’s teasing. Hermione _had_ been a swot. For some reason, this kicked the intensity of this exchange up a few notches for Hermione. She deserved this spanking. She wanted this spanking.

Hermione felt M shift and straighten herself. “After each slap, you will thank me and ask me for another. And, since this exercise is also to let everyone know what a little _slut_ you are, you will confess any growing arousal for all to hear.”

_SWAT!_

_Ow!_ “One! Thank you, Ma’am. May I have another?”

_SWAT!_

_Son of a…!_ “Two! Thank you, Ma’am. May I have another?”

M’s hits held a lot of bite, but Hermione was relishing every one of them. She liked the sting. She liked the pain and frankly she loved the humiliation of a spanking from Millicent Bulstrode. She was truly a dirty little slut to enjoy such a thing. Laying across this sex goddess’ lap was doing delicious things to her.

_SWAT!_

“Three! Thank you, Ma’am. May I have another?” She whimpered, and her voice was slightly choked when she continued, “I’m…I’m…”

M paused her hand and tilted her ear down as she smiled flirtatiously out at the crowd. “What was that Miss Priss? Did you want to say something?”

‘Yes, Ma’am. I’m…startingtobecomingaroused.”

“Wait, what was that? I couldn’t quite understand. Do you need me to stop?”

“No, no please.” Hermione swallowed heavily. “I’m becoming aroused.”

“What…already?”

Hermione had to contain her frustration as M continued to tease. _Why am I so turned on right now?_

_SWAT!_

_Oh!_ “Four! Thank you, Ma’am. May I have another?”

Hermione subconsciously arched her bottom up with each slap. With each hit, M’s nails moved slightly closer to her clit and Hermione mewled with need, but M was clearly no amateur. Each smack left her closer to becoming a heaping pile of desperate need but the witch never full on touched Hermione’s nub. It was subtle, and it was infuriating.

After the tenth swat M paused and looked over her shoulder. “Lucius, she’s about to combust. Shall I do the honors, or would you prefer she come by your own hand?”

Lucius contemplated. He was desperate to reclaim Hermione as his own. All this sharing was leaving him antsy and he simply wanted to get her off the stage. This was for Hermione, though, and was an experience he did not want to deny his witch.

He responded with a light toss of his hand. “After all your hard work? Please, all yours.”

“How about it, Miss Priss? Would you like to come as my fingers slap that pretty, wet cunt of yours?”

“Oh Gods, yes. Yes, Ma’am!  Please, Ma’am!”

“Aww. Well, when you beg like the little whore you are…well…How could I possibly say no? You’re being such a good girl.”

Hermione gasped when a hard slap landed right on her clit.

“Fuck.” Another choked gasp for air escaped as Hermione added breathlessly, “Five. Thank you, Ma’am. May I have another?”

The next slap was followed by a nail flicking her clit quickly and repeatedly. Hermione choked back a sob as sweet relief pulsed through her. She whimpered and felt all the strength she had left simply melt out of her like a snowball in the middle of July.

She was only half aware of the whisper coming from above her. “That was simply delicious, Missy. Let’s do it again sometime, shall we?”

As the familiar and warm hands of her beloved Master lifted her from M’s lap, Hermione sighed a breath of shear contentment. As Lucius cradled her to his chest, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck as the pull of sleep tugged at her consciousness. Whispered words of praise faded as sleep claimed her.

* * *

** Interview One with Writers and the Cast: **

**Snow** :  So, Lissa and I decided it would be fun to bring you all together for a little discussion about Master Mine.

 **Lissa** :  Yes. It seems the readers are divided on just where this story should go and just who Hermione will end up with. We thought it might be fun to hear your thoughts on the matter.

 **Snow** : So, Hermione, let’s start with you. What insight can you offer the readers?

 **Hermione** : Honestly, it’s just all so exhausting. One minute, I’m just trying to use the loo and the next minute I’m inducted into this covert sexual cult that I never knew existed. I’m being spanked by Severus, then I’m fucking Lucius, and the next thing you know I’m in a con non-con scene with Draco! And let’s not forget the scene with Rose and Etan!  Then I’m _fucking_ Severus…and wow. Oh, but it doesn’t end there… next I’m with Charlie. Then I’m back with Lucius – repeatedly – and he’s making my eyes cross. It’s a wonder I can even walk with all the sex you two are obsessively writing! I mean – really!  I thought you were _nice._ But you’re actually quite deviant and sex obsessed in my opinion.

 **Draco** : Ohhh, waa, waa, waa. Honestly Granger. Only you would complain about being the lead role in an awesome story where you’re the hottest witch around. Lavender would have _killed_ for this role!

 **Lissa:** How about it Draco? Where do you see this story going?

 **Draco** : It’s so obvious. The most popular Granger pairing in fanfiction is Dramione. Snow and Lissa want this story to be a huge success, so _clearly_ that’s their ending.

**_Dark eyes are staring at Draco from the corner of the room where our wizard in black in leaning against the wall._ **

**Snape:** Yes, Draco. Continue to delude yourself. It’s all so obvious. From the beginning there has only really been one wizard for the leading witch.

 **Snow:**  So, you feel it will be you then, Snape?

**_Snow slightly sinks into her chair as the piercing obsidian eyes land on her_. **

**Snape:** Obviously. Clearly you would have been sorted into Ravenclaw, Snowblind. Your intuitive powers of deduction are astounding.

**_Lissa snorts._ **

**Lissa:** What about Lucius, Snape? Don’t you think he has a fair shot at the maiden?

 **Snape _eyebrows raised_ : **Maiden? What maiden? I had sensed that you were the intelligent one. Clearly, I was mistaken.

 **Lucius:** You have no subtlety, Severus. It’s quite apparent Snow and Lissa have intended that I will be the one to woo Hermione in the end. Unlike your prickly and difficult character, I am considerate and kind. _And_ I share Hermione’s love of Muggle pizza. I have also provided her with more orgasms than any other character in the story.

 **Snape:** It’s not about _quantity_ but quality, Lucius. Our writers are clearly saving the best for last.

 **Mistress M:** Ohh, boys! I hope your fragile egos aren’t too wounded when the story has the best ending possible. She winds up with _me_ , of course!

 **Hermione _gasps and dives behind Lissa and Snow in horror:_** Did I say you were mean? I didn’t mean it! I meant wonderful, perfect, and stunningly gorgeous. Both of you!

**_Silence for a moment, all eyes on Hermione._ **

**Hermione _whispering_ :** She’s terrifying.

**_Laughter at Hermione’s expense._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To see photos that inspired M's dress in this chapter AND pictures of what we feel our characters look like, find us on FB or Tumblr:
> 
> Facebook: www.facebook.com/snowand.lissa.7
> 
> Tumblr: LissaDream AND SnowBlind12


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

* * *

Unwelcome and tenacious light drew Hermione reluctantly from her slumber. Burrowing her head under her pillow she willed the dawn to pause its invasion as she fought impending consciousness. It couldn’t be morning yet, she had just gone to bed! As awareness slowly took hold, she recalled the night before and then remembered it was Saturday. She couldn’t contain the small smile that blossomed into a full blown toothy grin as she stretched and tossed the pillow aside. Today had finally arrived. Her second date with Severus. Twelve-thirty. He would arrive at twelve-thirty. It felt as though it had been an eternity since their dinner. Well, it had been over two weeks. They were supposed to have seen each other the prior Saturday, but Severus had to postpone due to an issue at the club. It was just as well because Hermione had ended up working Saturday and Sunday anyway. He had suggested they get together this past Thursday evening, but Hermione had plans at the Burrow. So, they agreed on Saturday lunch and Hermione could barely contain the butterflies and her racing heart – it was _finally_ happening.

Anxious to get the day started, she edged to the side of the bed and sat up. A groan escaped her lips as her body resisted. Everything ached; her shoulders, her stomach muscles, her thighs, and calves. Even the tissue between her thighs felt tender. Not to mention her bum. Lucius had warned her she would feel this way but like a fool she had doubted him. Not to his face mind you, but she had felt like a wet noodle when he saw her home the evening before. Having tense and tender muscles had seemed highly unlikely. However, she was feeling it now. Balancing herself over Lucius’, Etan’s and M’s thighs had clearly been more of a workout than she had anticipated…not to mention a few drapes over the bench as well. At the time, her adrenaline had kept her limber and unaware of the strain _. Lucius warned you! Smartest witch of her age? Hardly!_

After a brief pause to stretch, she padded in her bare feet to the kitchen. Coffee. Coffee would make it all better. Coffee and a pain potion – and maybe a soak in the tub. The clock read seven-thirty as she sat at the table and stirred cream into the steaming cup. Lucius had left around midnight after spending a significant amount of time holding her and talking with her about the scene. They would talk more during their dinner on Sunday, but he had felt it would be best to discuss the scene while it was fresh.

It had surprised her how very arousing and stimulating the whole experience had been. Lucius had known she would enjoy being displayed in such a way. He had known being publicly spanked and humiliated would take things to a whole new level for her. The man understood this part of her so much more than she did. She had proceeded to have the most intense orgasms of her life on that stage because of him and his understanding of what made her tick.

Hermione had explained to Lucius that she really enjoyed how each spanking was different in not only who delivered it, but how it was delivered. They were each wonderful in their own way. The highlight of the evening, hands down, had been the dual spanking from Lucius and Severus. Lucius had told her she had squirted a good two feet. She felt certain he was exaggerating or teasing, even though he insisted he wasn’t. Hermione had asked him what had compelled him to allow Severus to participate. He had simply shrugged and said because he knew she would enjoy it, and the night had been about her and what she needed. He also knew it would make Severus happy and it was his intention to see Hermione and Severus both happy.

Hermione was beginning to wonder if Lucius Malfoy was her guardian angel. A blond, wicked angel who took care of her sexually and emotionally and what’s more … he loved her. Just before the scene, he had whispered that he took great care of his possessions and the people he loved and that she was both. It had been hard to maintain her composure. If she had not been distracted by what was about to happen, she would have crumbled at his sweet words. She had held it together, though, and told him that she loved him as well. And she did – very much. The man had become her best friend.

He had confided to her that he had contemplated insisting she not wear the mask for the scene, but after careful consideration had decided it needed to be her choice. Even though he knew she would get more out of the experience if she wasn’t hiding behind the mask, he knew it was best if she came to that realization on her own. He’d been so proud of her after the scene and she’d been proud of herself as well. Removing her mask had felt liberating. She just hoped it wasn’t a mistake. The jury was out on whether or not she would come to regret that impulsive decision. In truth though, Severus and Lucius were not only Dominants – they owned The Dungeon. Hermione had never heard a peep about either of them and their extracurricular activities before showing up at the club. She felt confident the members took the NDA very seriously.

After they had finished discussing the scene, he had removed her plug and enlarged it a small amount. He would be enlarging it every week until he was confident she could handle his cock comfortably. Since she had been wearing it all evening, he instructed she not sleep with it inserted that night. Anal sex was something she was anxious for and Lucius confessed his eagerness as well. However, he insisted she would not enjoy it if she wasn’t prepared properly.

She had been hoping he would just bugger her, maybe cast a numbing charm or something. He had dismissed this notion entirely telling her that numbing charms would take the pleasure away for her. She would feel nothing. That, in turn, would take away his pleasure as well. He insisted that when he was in her arse, he wanted her to know it and wanted her to relish every inch. He asked her to trust him in this as in all things involved with her training. There was no question she trusted him, and considering how sore she was right now, she would not make the mistake of doubting him again.

A few sips into her coffee, Hermione almost dropped her cup when an owl tapped loudly at her window. As she approached the window, a second owl flew in next to the first. They each held a small, paper wrapped package. She let them both fly in and rest on the incoming owl perch while she pulled the bag of _Emporium’s Owl Treats_ from the cabinet and gave them each two after untying the packages. They were off and out the window the second their little gullets had pocketed the treats.

She sat down at the table and opened the smaller package first. A vial with a cork had a tag which read; _Drink me, now._ The handwriting was unmistakably Severus’s. A second vial read _, Drink me at noon_. After a brief pause, she popped the cork from the first bottle and swallowed it. A tingly feeling started in her mouth and worked its way down her throat and into her stomach. Within a moment, the sensation stopped, and her body instantly felt relaxed. Her bum no longer felt tender and her muscles were no longer tight and sore. It was instant relief. She couldn’t contain her smile that Severus had sent her something so thoughtful. _I wonder if this is something he gives all his submissives?_

She bristled at that unwelcome thought. Her mind then drifted to Britt. The witch had seemed quite distraught last night. However, Hermione couldn’t help wondering if she had misunderstood the situation. She couldn’t suppress her curiosity about the redhead. Visions of the shared New Year’s kiss she had witnessed between Severus and the witch popped in her head, as did the memory of Severus caning and then fucking her on stage. It made Hermione tense as unwanted pangs of jealousy overcame her. Today was only her second date with the taciturn wizard, but this was a topic she needed answers to. What exactly did Britt mean to him and would his shutters come down if she asked?

Forcing that thought from her mind, Hermione opened the second package _._ The familiar, elegant script made her smile:

_Doll, Enclosed are calming bath crystals. Run a hot bath and add two scoops. Once the crystals have dissolved, the water will turn lavender. Soak for one hour and then take a nap. When you awake you will feel refreshed for your date today. Obey me in this as in all things, my dear._

_I would like to hear about your date via a journal entry this evening. A brief synopsis will suffice. I look forward to our dinner tomorrow evening. I will remind you that Wednesday evening you will collect your reward for being such a good girl last night._

_Have a wonderful time today!_

_-L_

Hermione felt completely relaxed and wondered if perhaps the bath crystals were unnecessary, but Lucius had been kind to send them. She would obey him, of course.

As the bath water ran, she slipped off her sleep shorts, knickers, and camisole. The tub filled quickly, and the crystals dissolved within a minute. As soon as the water turned a soft lavender, she stepped in and slid down into the caressing heat. She let out a sigh as the flowery scent wafted through her senses leaving her feeling almost high. Where Severus’ potion had left her feeling refreshed and no longer sore, Lucius’ bath salts left her feeling like Jell-O. With each passing minute she felt more and more relaxed. _I could get used to this!_ She picked up her wand from the tub’s edge and placed a stasis charm over the water. The temperature was perfect, and she didn’t want it growing cold on her. Feeling as though a nap would be just the thing, she closed her eyes. Visions flashed before her them as she felt herself drift off.

_Steel grey eyes._

_Red-leather Chairs_.

_Long red nails._

_Paddles._

_Riding crops._

_Onyx, obsidian gazes that looked right into her soul._

Voices began to mix with the visions.

_“Is that hard enough, my sweet?”_

_“Only the sluttiest of naughty girls would come from being spanked. “_

_“Your juices are dripping down your thighs.”_

_“Miss Priss? Do you like my fingers slapping your cunt?”_

Hermione felt lost in the sights and sounds of the recesses of her mind. Visions that were less like memory and more like fantasy began to push forward.

_Dressed in her Hogwarts uniform, bent over Lucius’ desk in his study which morphed into being bent over her classroom desk in potions as Severus fucked her from behind in front of the class. “Dirty little whores must be fucked.” The classroom morphed again from Hogwarts to one of her graduate classes at Cambridge. Her Advanced Community Law professor watched with shock and disdain, yet also with flushed cheeks as the wizard in black continued his assault from behind._

_Draco chasing her through The Manor, capturing her and ripping her clothes off before bending her over the dining room table. The thrill of his chase and her capture eliciting pretend cries of indignation as grunts and groans of ecstasy were muffled into the cherry wood._

_Lucius with the snitch and leering at her as he said, “Your newest butt plug, my dear. Hold it in.”_

_Snuggled in Lucius’ arms, whispers of love from his perfect lips._

_Draco furious. “I asked you not to hurt him, Granger!”_

Something felt wrong. She didn’t want Draco to be angry. She wouldn’t hurt Lucius! It was a dream. _Wake up, Hermione!_ She knew she needed to wake up. She was aware she was fighting for consciousness and yet her eyes wouldn’t open. It was a scary feeling. _I need to wake up. This is all just a dream. Why won’t my eyes open?_

Severus floo’d to Hermione’s at precisely twelve-thirty. Connecting his floo to hers had made everything so much easier.

Not finding her in the living room to greet him, he spoke loudly. “Hermione?”

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. He felt it. Years of being a spy had left him with a finely tuned skill of sensing trouble or danger. He quietly stepped further into her flat, his wand at the ready. “Hermione?”

As he moved through the hallway, he could hear water splashing and unintelligible mumbling. Not wanting to look for fear of what he might see, yet needing to look for fear she was in trouble, Severus pushed the bathroom door open.

Her face and skin were beet red as she seemed to be thrashing in the tub. Disjointed mumbles escaped her mouth as her head moved from side to side. “N’to ‘ake…N’to ‘ake up.” Her words were gibberish, but it was clear she was dreaming. By the looks of it, she was drugged.

Dashing forward, Severus scooped the water-logged witch from the tub. Her skin was red and pruney, and it felt as though she were on fire. He carried her to her bedroom and dried her off as he whispered urgently, “Hermione, wake up!” He gently patted her cheek. “Wake up, princess.”

When she didn’t stir, he tossed his cloak over her and dashed back to the bath. It was then that he spotted the familiar jar of crystals on the ledge of the tub. “Oh, surely not!”

He slammed open her medicine cabinet, relieved to see a couple vials of invigoration draught. He grabbed them both and dashed back to the witch’s side. “Hermione, open your mouth. Open your mouth, now!”

Pulling her bottom lip from her teeth, he easily slipped his forefinger between her upper and lower jaw. Holding her mouth open, he dripped very small droplets under her tongue. Pulling his finger from her mouth, he watched as she swallowed. After a moment her eyes fluttered.

“Hermione, you need to drink this.”

“Wha?” His heart clenched momentarily when her hand limply reached up to his face. “Seve…” Her eyes fluttered closed as her hand fell to her chest.

 _Blasted girl!_ His patience was slipping. “Damn it, Miss Granger! Open your eyes this instant!”

Her eyes opened to slits. “Yes, Profess…” The minute she opened her mouth to speak, he dripped a couple more drops in past her lips. He watched as her eyes fluttered closed and her throat moved to swallow.

Less than a minute later, her eyes opened fully. “Severus?”

“Yes. I need you to drink this. You’ve overdosed on calming draught.” He tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. It was not her fault and it would not be a good start to their date if she woke to him yelling at her.

Her forehead crinkled, and her voice still sounded far away. “What?”

He shook his head not wanting to explain. “Open your mouth, Miss Granger or I will be very displeased.”

She blinked slowly and did as he insisted. Severus poured the entire vial into her mouth. Stepping away from her, he opened her dresser and pulled out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Opening a couple other drawers, he found her underwear and grabbed a pair of knickers.

By the time he was back at her side, her eyes were open fully. He tossed the clothes next to her. “Here. Put these on. I’ll be in the living room.”

He let out a heavy breath and tried to calm himself as the reality of what could have happened took hold. He stepped into her kitchen and poured them each a glass of water. Drinking his down, he spotted the wrapping from his package on her counter next to the second vial which she had not taken yet. _Thank, Merlin!_ Next to that he spotted the other wrapping and Lucius’ writing on a card.

 _Two scoops? No wonder she was so out of it!_ If she had merely drank the potion or used the bath crystals, she would have been fine, but combining the two had brought the levels of the draught to potential coma or overdose. Of course, no one knew this except himself because the draught was his own recipe and the crystals he had made as well. He would have to start labelling and including warnings on his homemade concoctions. It had been reckless of him.

Carrying her glass back into the living room, he only had to wait a moment before she came out to join him. Her eyes were still a bit glassy, but her skin was no longer beet red. Rosy would be a better description. Walking towards her, he handed her the glass. “Here, drink this.”

Hermione sipped it as her eyes trailed up and down the wizard before her. She sucked in her bottom lip and her eyes twinkled. “You’re a sexy man, Severus Snape.” Her eyes grew wide and her free hand shot up to her mouth, as though to conceal her giggle.

“You’re still drunk on calming draught, I see,” he mused with a light smile. Stepping towards her he handed her the second vial of invigoration. “I think you need to drink this if our lunch date has any hope of happening.”

She took the vial from him and smiled. “Is it time for our date? Is it already twelve-thirty?” She asked with little concern as she swallowed down the vial.

“Well, it’s almost one actually.”

“Really?’ She asked with a lazy voice and a stretch.

Severus’ eyes immediately went to her taut, flat stomach which was exposed. Taking a good look at her, he realized he should have paid a bit more attention to the outfit he had laid out for her. The grey _Spice Girls_ t-shirt was at least two sizes too small and the fabric was very worn and thin, it was practically see-through. Without a bra, her breasts were in their beautiful, natural shape and her pert nipples were easily visualized. He shifted his stance as his cock began to swell _. Get it together, Severus._

He gave her a small smile and knew when the second draught kicked in.

A panicked look came over her and her eyes flew to the clock on the wall. “Oh Merlin, Severus! I’m so sorry!” Her hands flew to her head and grabbed handfuls of hair as her alarm continued to escalate. “I…I don’t know what happened. I took a bath…” Tears of frustration were beginning to pool in her beautiful eyes.

“It’s quite alright, Hermione. It was not your fault.” When her eyes remained misty, his words clearly not calming her, he surprised himself when he stepped towards her and pulled her into his chest. He was speechless for a moment when her warm, little body felt so good in his arms, like she belonged there. He whispered lightly, as his hand rubbed the back of her head. “It’s alright. It seems Lucius and I were of the same mindset this morning. Unfortunately, our combined remedies almost caused you to overdose on very potent calming draught. Both concoctions are my recipe and are perfectly safe independently, yet dangerous when combined. I should have checked with him before sending you the package this morning. Knowing him as I do, I should have realized he would provide you with something.”

Reluctantly, he pulled back from her, his concerned eyes on hers. Her look was lightly dazed, almost as if his holding her had re-manifested the effects of the calming draught. Thinking she needed some direction and feeling the need to take control of this messed up situation, he spoke firmly but kindly. “Why don’t you change, and we’ll discuss where to take our date from here after?”

She nodded up at him, her face still slightly flushed. “Yes, that sounds good. I’ll be right back, Severus. It won’t take me long.”

And it didn’t. Severus was surprised that it was less than five minutes before she was back at his side.

She was beautiful. His eyes stroked from her head to her toes and back again. Dressed in an emerald-green, cashmere sweater and black jeans with black boots, she was smiling radiantly. Her hair was down yet pulled back from her face with a simple headband.

They stared at each other awkwardly for a second. “I have some fresh lemon-lime aide. How about I get us some and we can figure out where we want to go from here?”

He nodded. “That would be very nice, Hermione.” He followed her as she headed into the kitchen. Knowing he needed to say the uncomfortable words now or they would never make it out of his mouth, he swallowed and said simply, “The cake you made? It was delicious – thank you.” Severus meant it, too. For all his swearing off the cake and plans to give it away, he had taken it back to his flat and proceeded to eat the whole thing (over the course of several days) without sharing a single piece.

Hermione looked back over her shoulder as she poured their drinks. “Really? You liked it?”

“Yes, it was a treat. One I am not accustomed to.”

She beamed up at him as she handed him his glass. His hand stroked hers and a shot of tingly desire went from her fingertips to her core. His slight smirk told her he had touched her on purpose. She laughed lightly as his smile grew wider. She leaned her hip against the counter behind her, her cool glass pressed to her still overheated cheek as she spoke. “You know, Severus. I was rather terrified bringing you that cake. I half expected you to take house points.”

Hermione was completely taken by surprise when he erupted into a hardy laugh. “Yes, well…I suppose I don’t make it easy. And I can’t promise I ever will, Hermione.”

Now it was Hermione’s turn to laugh. “Well, Severus, you wouldn’t be you if you weren’t at least moderately difficult most of the time.” Still smiling she walked past him back into the living room.

She led him to the sofa where he paused. Laying on the table by the floo, was a small bunch of violet tea roses. It was a color variation she had never seen before. He held them out to her. “For you.”

His eyes shifted to the window as she took them. It was obvious he felt a bit awkward. “Thank you, they’re beautiful,” she responded softly. He had given her the same type of roses on their first date over two weeks ago. She had thought it had been a random thing, him giving her flowers during their walk and choosing her favorite – the tea rose. But now that he was repeating the gesture she found herself wondering if it had been intentional all along. She went back to the kitchen and placed them in a vase with water before bringing them with her to the living room and placing them on the coffee table.

They sat on opposite ends of the sofa and a brief pause passed. It was just about to become awkward when Severus, finding his courage, said what he had practiced. “You were very clever, hiding the silver bookmark within the cake.”

Hermione sipped her drink and shrugged, the corner of her mouth lifting in a teasing smirk. “Well, I wanted to leave with all my limbs attached, didn’t I? It was best I was long gone when you made that discovery.”

His light chuckle, followed by a light leer as he stroked his eyes over her arms and legs, caused her to shift nervously. He spoke slowly and suggestively. “I find I like your limbs just as they are, Hermione. Attached to your delicious, little body.” After a second, he continued, “While the Plato quote was… _nice,_ it was the Walt Whitman quote on the other side that caught my attention. _‘Resist much, obey little.’_ Tell me, was that a warning? Was it advice? Is that what I should expect from you? Defiance?”

 _Oh Merlin. Fuck! He’s going to kill me nice and slow with just his voice and eyes._ Not answering him, she nonchalantly waved her wand at the ceiling fan. It slowly began to spin – it’s first time being turned on in months. It was January, after all, but the heat was stifling. After a second, she turned it up to the high setting.

A knowing smile on his lips, he continued his torture. “So, tell me – how did you feel about being displayed at the club? Did you enjoy your spankings and lewd display? Or are you done with public displays for eternity?”

Hermione felt the heat of the fiery blush that was surely making her look like a tomato. “You just had to bring that up, didn’t you?” She picked up a sofa pillow and pulled it close to hide her face.

“No, no, Miss Granger. No hiding from me.” He leaned towards her and pulled the pillow away. He delighted in the vibrant twinkle of her eyes. A flirtatious twinkle which clearly belied her embarrassment. “You certainly don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I’m curious, but I have no desire to make you uncomfortable and blush like a schoolgirl. Well, at least not today,” he teased. His eyes darkened as he added with a lecherous stare, “But rest assured, when you are mine there will be no escape.”

She had pulled her knees to her face and was peeking over them at him. Her voice was soft and honest, and it shot a laser beam of desire right to his groin. “I have no desire to escape, Severus Snape. I think you know that.”

“Well, then. What are you doing all the way over there? Hiding behind those exquisite knees?”

Meeting his challenge, Hermione tossed the pillow to the floor and fell forward onto her hands. She crawled to his end of the sofa without hesitation, her eyes remaining glued to his.

A devilish, crooked smile met her and when she was close he tapped his lap. “Well, come sit on my lap, kitty cat.”

She smiled coquettishly as she climbed onto his lap so that she was straddling him. “I think we’re heading into dangerous territory, Severus.”

He tenderly stroked the hair from her face. “Hmm, yes. We’ve been treading dangerous water since you first stepped foot into the club.”

His hands felt like home. She nuzzled her face into his left and kissed his palm. Snape’s reaction was instant. Strong arms were around her and she was flipped onto her back on the sofa as his mouth pressed against her hers. His sudden movement and display of Dominance had left her expecting power and force, but what she received was tender and soft. Soft lips that touched hers and lazily left a trail of kisses from her lips to her left ear where he nibbled delicately.

Words whispered breathlessly left her trembling with voracious yearning. Her lithe body writhed and stretched beneath him as his feverish statement tormented her with what she wanted and couldn’t have. “You are a temptress to my dark soul, Hermione. You have no idea what I want to do to you right now.” He kissed her neck softly as he continued his verbal seduction. “You were exquisite last night. Perfection personified. Beauty, innocence, and decadence…a siren leading me to the depths of the sea.”

He placed a light kiss to her lips and pushed himself away, leaving her befuddled and pining for more. Pushing up on her elbows, Hermione’s heart pounded wildly as he stood and walked towards the window. He was facing away but she could see the swell and lift of his shoulders due to a calming breath.

She sat up and reeled in her racing thoughts and emotions. It was a good thing he had pulled away. She didn’t think she would have had the will power to stop him if he had wanted more – and then she would hate herself. She couldn’t disobey Lucius, she couldn’t betray his trust. Her resolve of resistance renewed, she picked up both their iced drinks and approached him. They could both do with some cooling off.

Thirty minutes later found them walking through the Muggle streets, enjoying what was an unusually sunny day given the time of year. When they arrived at the bakery café, they were seated next to the window where the solar warmth and view of the blue sky was soothing. They sat across from each other this time, both realizing the danger of sitting next to each other where wandering hands and snuggles could potentially lead to a total lack of control. Hermione didn’t think it would take much for them to lose themselves. She laughed internally as she imagined them having to obliviate everyone in the café to avoid the summoning of police for their debauched and illegal display.

They looked over the menu, each agreeing on the special. When the waiter arrived, Severus ordered their lunches as well as a bottle of Sancerre which led to a discussion of the Loire Valley of France. Hermione described the fields of orchards and vineyards as well as the abundance of chateau’s. After a while, Severus found himself lost in simply watching her. She spoke passionately about the vacations of her youth. Her eyes were alight, and her expressive hands moved with excitement as she told anecdote after anecdote of her travels throughout France, which was clearly her favorite place in the world. He did not grow bored even though after a while he had stopped paying as much attention to her words. She was magnificent, and he could watch her for hours.

When the waiter arrived with the Sancerre, Hermione realized she had been talking non-stop. A slight flush of embarrassment was calmed by a deep breath and a sip of the crisp, delicious wine. She looked up and was surprised to find he did not look bored and found herself relieved. She had been sure he would have thought poorly of her droning babble. Instead his eyes reflected amusement and warmth, two expressions she would not have thought the wizard capable of until very recently.

“Your descriptions have left me intrigued. While I am not one for exploring the countryside, I certainly enjoy a lovely view and a good book. Perhaps we can venture their together sometime?”

His words excited her, and she could feel her stomach doing flips. The thought of traveling with him and the fact that _he_ suggested such a thing proved to her his interest. “I would like that very much, Severus.” She watched him as he perused the dessert menu. Feeling emboldened, she proceeded cautiously. “Severus, may I ask you something rather…personal?”

His eyes shot from the menu to hers, a small touch of warning not hidden in their depths. “I suppose. I may not ordain to answer, however.”

She didn’t hesitate. “What’s the story with you and Britt?” When he didn’t answer right away, but simply continued to watch her, she rushed to add. “It’s just I saw you two perform on stage that night and the chemistry you share is palpable. And I’ve seen you with her since then and…”

“Hermione,” he interrupted. It still pained him to remember how he had tried to push Hermione away that night. Using Britt to torment and dissuade the one he knew in his heart he wanted but felt he couldn’t have and simply didn’t deserve.

Hermione stopped speaking immediately when he said her name. Her nervous and tight expression relaxed as he spoke. “Let me start by saying I have ended things with Britt. I did so not long after you and I had dinner.” Hermione didn’t say anything and maintained a calm façade as her heart pounded mercilessly against her ribcage. _Can he hear that?_ She hoped if she were silent he would keep talking. She wanted to know more.

Severus contemplated. This was not something he wanted to discuss, but he knew for this relationship to have a chance he would need to make an effort. He would have to try to be open and share pieces of himself that were more than just the physical parts. It was not something he did easily. He sipped his wine and considered his response.

“Britt is…she’s an exceptional submissive.” Hermione felt her insides crash to floor. It was nothing she didn’t already know but hearing him say it left her feeling hollow and like she couldn’t breathe. Sensing her distress, he reached across the table and took her left hand into his. Softly rubbing the back of it with his thumb, he continued. “There was a time I thought she might mean more to me than that, but it passed as the war raged. After that, she was…comfortable. I regret that while my feelings had evolved away from what we had once shared, hers…had not.”

He paused before continuing. “I should have ended our scenes a long time ago. I certainly never lied to her with words or promises, but my actions were unfair. I feel I led her on. If you hadn’t come along, I would still be doing so.” He released her hand and sipped his wine. “But you did …come along. It became apparent and obvious that I should not be scening with her when I knew she had feelings I could not, and would not ever, reciprocate.”

“You ended it…because of me?”

“I ended it because she will never be what I truly want. You were the impetus that made that realization crystal clear.”

“Are there others? Other submissives you have a particular attachment to?”

“No. That’s not to say I don’t scene with other witches – I certainly do – but I am not attached to any of them. They are consenting adults with like-minded desires. That is all.” He watched her for a minute. “Does that bother you? That I still – ?”

Hermione sighed and shook her head. “I have no right to ask you to not scene with others, Severus. I’m contracted to another wizard. How could I possibly ask from you what I cannot give in return?”

She swallowed heavily when his unblinking eyes left no doubt to the truth of his accompanying words. “I think…I think if you asked it of me, I could give them up. If it was something you needed. It’s my fault you are contracted to Lucius. If I had understood…if I had listened. If I had – ”

“Severus.” This time it was she who reached out for his hand. “It’s ok. It’s…I don’t regret that Lucius is training me. I don’t know how things would have transpired if you had accepted my offer. Who’s to say something terrible and implosive wouldn’t have happened? As it is, I am dating you. Dating the wizard I am beginning to see glimpses of a real future with. We might not be where we are now if things had happened differently. How can I possibly regret anything in my past that has lead to where we are right now; sitting in this café, drinking delicious wine, and talking of a potential future together? I think I’m the happiest witch alive right now.”

Hermione could see the shift. He looked away as he spoke. “Lucius is a much more patient wizard than I. I’m quite certain you could not ask for a better training Master.” It was obvious to Hermione he was steering the conversation away from emotional declarations, and that was fine. She respected his boundaries. It was only their second date after all and she tended to be a tad too forthright sometimes.

Following his lead, she replied, “I love Lucius. He is an exceptional man and a wonderful Master.” When Hermione saw the jaw muscles tense and the shoulders go rigid on the wizard in front of her, she quickly added. “I love Lucius as a friend, Severus. I’m not in love with him.”

“Is there a difference?” His tone was slightly petulant.

Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. “I think I could easily fall in love with you, Severus. If you let me."

It was right then that the waiter arrived with their meals. They had each ordered the special; French onion soup with a pear salad. They looked at the plates before them, but their minds were heavy with the turn of the conversation.

Wanting to move the conversation in a completely different direction, Severus pondered other topics. He waited for her to begin eating and then cut into his salad. “So, you mentioned France and the wonderful vacations growing up. Do you still vacation with your parents?”

Hermione was unprepared for the question. Years of practice and experience had taught her when to expect questions like this and how to respond. Severus had taken her completely off guard. Somehow, she had not anticipated him asking about her folks, although it was a perfectly reasonable topic of conversation considering they were getting to know each other.

She sipped her wine to steady herself and prevent the tears that were always on the verge of falling when she thought of them. “My parents don’t even know they have a daughter anymore.”

Severus paused mid chew and drew his brows up in question.

“The summer before what should have been my seventh year at Hogwarts, I obliviated them and gave them new identities to protect them. They live in Australia now.” She smiled at her plate.

“They adopted twin boys.” She looked up, her eyes glistening. “The boys are five now.” She moved the food around on her plate. Feeling the need to justify her actions, she added, “I had to do it. They were in danger. I almost didn’t save them in time. When I got back home from sending them off at the airport, posing as their travel agent, I found the house had been ransacked. Mad Eye and Lupin had just arrived before me and the Death Eaters had just left.”

Severus knew he should be comforting her, but he was too shocked by what she had accomplished at such a young age. “ _You_ obliviated them? You performed a scaena tres obliviation? As a seventeen-year-old?”

Hermione shrugged as she perforated the cheese on her soup, causing a wisp of steam to escape. Her voice was soft. “It was a scaena quattuor, actually. I had to preserve what memories I could of their lives together and just remove myself. I had been gone except for holidays and summers since I was eleven, so that helped.”

Severus was completely flabbergasted. He put down his fork. “Miss Granger, do you even _realize_ what an achievement that is? Do you even know how… _exceptional_ you are?”

Hermione swallowed and looked up at the man who resembled her professor in this particular moment more than he had since she had left Hogwarts. Except now, for the first time ever, he was praising her. In the six years he had taught her he had not once complimented her or given her any acknowledgment of her academic prowess. Her emotions flipped quickly. The tears were no longer from sadness, but from sheer joy. His words gave her strength and his praise gave her pride and reassurance. Something she found she needed when it came to the guilt she still harbored daily.

“You did what you had to do, and in the process, you performed a master level Obliviation. I’m so incredibly proud of you, Hermione.”

That did it. Tears rolled freely down her cheeks. It was the release of a long-held desire and wish – to be praised by this man in front of her. How could his opinion affect her like this? Why did she care after all these years? She felt ridiculous and juvenile. She did _not_ need this man’s approval to feel good about herself or to feel justified in her actions. She knew she had done the right thing, and frankly she knew she was a bright and exceptionally competent witch. No, she didn’t need this man’s praise, but Merlin if she didn’t _want_ it. And now that she had it, she was crying like the schoolgirls she knew he abhorred. She scolded herself as the wetness blurred her vision. _Get it together, Hermione!_ The truth was his praise had merely been the crack that busted the dam. She hadn’t had a good cry about her parents in a long time. She was overdue, and the conversation capped off with his unfathomable words had simply been too much.

She gently wiped her nose and dabbed her eyes with her napkin as she calmed. The breakdown had taken less than half a minute, but she was embarrassed all the same.

Severus felt his heart constrict when anguish and despair overcame his witch. He was not good at comforting, not unless it was after a hard spanking. Physical pain he understood. A submissive’s cry because of punishment or a scene? - That was a language he excelled at and could handle. This was entirely different, and he felt lost and simply ill-equipped which made him frustrated and uncomfortable. _Why did you have to ask about her parents?_

Being who he was and not understanding that his praise had been the catalyst, he of course assumed the wisp of a girl was simply mourning her parents. He swallowed as the foreign words exited his mouth reluctantly. “I’m sorry to have…brought up a topic that causes you pain, Hermione. It was not my intention.”

“No, Severus. I’m sorry. It’s not that. It’s not the topic.” She looked up at him. She had promised herself she would always be forthcoming and honest with him, she would leave no room for a misunderstanding between them if she could help it. Never again. “You don’t understand the impact your words have. You don’t understand the impact your _lack_ of words have, either.” He looked lost and she laughed.

“Your praise, Severus – simple words that I craved as a schoolgirl. You were my only teacher – well, besides Trelawney, but she didn’t matter – who never _once_ offered a word of praise. I tried and tried but I was running on a hamster wheel where you were concerned. And here we are, ten years later and I’m that schoolgirl all over again.”

Severus stared at her with impassive eyes. After a minute and just before Hermione began to regret having been so honest, he spoke. His words taking her completely by surprise. “Let me make something perfectly clear, Miss Granger. You are beautiful, you are wise, and you are brave. You are brilliant, you are interesting, and you are kind. You have a warmth within you that could bring an army of inferi back to life.” He cocked a brow. “Please don’t by the way.” She laughed lightly at his tease.

His smile faded, and his expression was contemplative. “I’m sorry. I can’t change the past, but I can tell you now that you are exquisite, and I have a tremendous amount of respect for you and what you’ve accomplished in your short life.” After another brief pause, he added, “Now, back to you being a schoolgirl all over again. I find that notion very interesting. Let’s expand on that topic.”

Over an hour and a half and two glasses of wine later, Severus and Hermione were standing at the entrance to her building. “Severus, please come up. Just for a little while. I’ll make tea and we’ll behave. With our schedules, who knows when we’ll get to spend time together again.”

He was peering down at her, clearly weighing out his options. She batted her eyelashes playfully and he rolled his eyes. “If you insist.”

As soon as they were inside, Severus wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back to his front. His hands rubbed her arms when he felt her tremble. “Are you cold? You left that blasted fan on.”

She spun around in his arms and popped up on her toes, kissing his cheek. “Thanks for coming inside. You turn off the fan and I’ll start the tea.” She flounced towards the kitchen.

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded to her command.

“Good boy,” she chirped from the kitchen. He shook his head, contemplating what Lucius would do to him if he spanked the impertinent witch. “Best not to find out,” he whispered to himself as he approached the fan.

“What was that?” she asked as she reentered the living room a couple inches shorter. He looked down to see she had taken off her boots.

“Hmmm, nothing. You should know I have a very good memory, Hermione.”

“I’m pleased to hear it, Severus. I realize you are getting older, but I wasn’t aware memory loss had become a concern quite yet.” She was looking quite pleased with herself and it took every ounce of control not to flip her over his lap.

“Yes, let’s see… schoolgirl role play, good boy comment, teasing about my advanced years… Just realize I may not be able to exert my will over you today, but the time is coming.”

Feeling daring she dismissed him with a wave. “That’ll be a while. I’m not worried. Besides, threatening with consequences for my actions…it’s like promising a dog a bone if he wags his tail.”

She let out a squeal when he pulled her onto his lap. He planted a light kiss on her shoulder. “Hmm, that makes me think of puppy play. Has Lucius given you a taste of that dynamic yet?”

Hermione pulled back and scrunched up her face. “No, not yet. Although it’s not something I’m too excited about trying. I would be ok if he skipped that particular part of my training.”

He let out a low chortle as he continued to kiss her neck and whispered. “I’ll be sure to remind Lucius of his deficiency.”

Hermione made to jump out of his lap in protest, but his arms prevented her from too much movement. “You know, Severus, Lucius may be your best friend but I’m your potential girlfriend.”

“Hmmm. Girlfriend. I kind of like the sound of that.”

She gave him a scolding look. “Yes, well. Betraying your potential girlfriend could be detrimental to that inevitability.”

His mouth continued its soft assault on her neck. “Hmm, you think so? You think suggesting something that would potentially give her tremendous pleasure would be ill received?”

“I just think that there is a certain degree of confidentiality that a woman should be able to expect from her suitor in regards to – ”

“You sound like a lawyer.”

“Well, Severus, that would be because I happen to _be_ a lawyer.”

“Yes, I’m well aware.”

“Well, then you should also be – ” He interrupted her with his lips on hers. It started out soft and quickly escalated. She turned fully towards him and straddled his lap while her arms wrapped around his neck as she melted into his kiss. Where their earlier kiss had been soft and sweet, this one was frenzied, as though they were famished for each other. His hand was holding the back of her head as his lips ravished hers. As she pressed herself closer, she keened when she felt the hardness of his erection rubbing against her. Her breath hitched as her own desire was ascending to a dangerous level. The unwelcome whistling of the kettle caused them both to pause. His hands, which were on her lower back, froze. She let out a whimper as she pulled her mouth from his and collapsed her forehead onto his shoulder. Her words were breathless. “I think I’m losing my mind. I have no self-control when I’m in your arms, Severus.”

His hands moved to her hips and he patted her gently. “Up you get, princess. It’s time I take my leave. I’m due at work within the hour and we must stop before we lose ourselves completely.”

Hermione reluctantly stood. “Yes, you’re right.”

He stood and kissed the top of her head. “Yes, princess, you’ll find that to be the case infuriatingly often as you get to know me.”

She snorted a laugh as she looked up at him and quickly pressed her lips together when she found his expression serious.

She walked him to the floo. “Thank you for lunch, Severus. I’m sorry for my emotional outburst.”

Tiling her chin up, he kissed her tenderly. “Don’t ever apologize for such a thing, Hermione. Your honesty and openness is beguiling and refreshing. Thank you for your company. I shall be in touch soon.”

As soon as he was gone she stomped towards the kitchen to pour herself a cup of tea. Looking up at the clock, she wondered how the afternoon had flown so fast. How was it already five-thirty? She was due at Grimmauld Place in an hour. Tossing her tea into the sink, she headed to her room. She might just have time to write her journal entry about her date before she had to leave if she got a move on it.

* * *

Lucius put the journal down after reading her entry. Her lunch had been an emotional one, it seemed. Severus had told her he was proud of her and it had touched her to tears. She had told Lucius about her parents weeks ago during one of their dinners and it was a good sign she was now opening up to Severus as well. It seemed they were on track with their communication.

He stood and walked to the bar where he poured a small whiskey. He swallowed it down and walked back to his desk, glancing over her entry once again. Things had become heated at the end of their date. Lucius realized it would not be long until he would need to make some allowances between the two of them.

Letting out a heavy sigh he opened his desk drawer and pulled out her limits list. He probably should have her fill out a new one, he needed to be sure he was still on track. It seemed their time together might be coming to an end in a couple months’ time. He needed to up his game if her training would be complete.

* * *

**Monday January 22** nd  
8:56 PM  
  
Good evening Doll,

We are going to change things up a bit, I think. Starting tonight you are being put on orgasm denial. It’s time to start practicing control, pet. Furthermore, every night before you go to bed, you will edge yourself three times. Just in case you are unfamiliar with that term, it means that you will bring yourself to the brink of orgasm and then stop. You may not come, Hermione. If you come on accident, there will be consequences. I’m taking your pleasure under my complete control. For a minimum of the next three weeks, your orgasms belong to me. Sleep well, love.

Yours, Master

* * *

 

Hermione sighed as she put the finishing touches on the simple lunch of broiled pollock and salad she had made for her and Draco to share. He would be there any minute, and they were planning on spending the afternoon together watching a movie before her dinner with Lucius that evening. The moment Lucius crossed her mind, her lips twitched into a smirk. It had been quite the week. To start it, Lucius had sent her an owl with a new limits list to fill out, saying he wanted to make sure their training was still on target. At first, she had thought he was being a bit redundant, but was surprised with how much the list had actually changed with the more she’d experienced and had conceded to herself that a new limits list had been the right move.

In the two sessions since her stage performance had included much more anal play, breath play, and various types of restraints and clamps. Not to mention some seriously intense orgasms due to her nightly edging sessions. Her special Wednesday night scene had included no less than a dozen orgasms for her over about a three-hour marathon session. She had been almost useless the next day at work.

Lucius was happy to see that since he had broken the dam on her ability to squirt, it was happening more frequently. This apparently thrilled him immensely, but Hermione was undecided about how it made her feel. Her orgasms had seemed to intensify greatly, but the mess it made was a little embarrassing. She was trying to get over it, especially with how delighted Lucius seemed.

Their scenes had been a combination of arousing, terrifying, and captivating. Particularly being that she and Lucius had, somewhere along the line, completely lost any sense of decorum or inhibition and their already strong connection was deepening. He was no longer lecturing or teaching just to teach and train but using demonstration and “hands on” learning that was powerful and animalistic. He often left her not only speechless, but breathless.

Speaking of breathless…

Things with Severus were going so amazingly well that merely thinking about him made her feel fuzzy. They managed to sneak in a third date this past week. Unfortunately, with both their busy schedules, it was just a quick dinner. They had met at a little Muggle Japanese restaurant Thursday evening, talked and ate and had just enough time to walk to the Apparition point together where he chastely kissed her goodbye before disappearing in a swirl of black. They’d had a date set up for the day before, but Snape’s daytime manager had called out sick and Lucius had Portkeyed to France to tour a winery and vineyard he was hoping to acquire.

This had meant Snape was the only one available to cover the shift. Hermione had returned his cancellation owl with the knickers she had planned to wear that afternoon and her understanding. Snape had sent back a single red long-stemmed tea rose with his heartfelt regrets, his gratitude for the knickers, plus a request for a lunch date that week. He would be bringing her lunch to her Diagon Alley office on Tuesday and they had promised each other the following Saturday would be reserved for each other no matter what.          

With those musings, she heard her buzzer and dashed through her flat to let Draco up. “Hey, Granger!” He grinned when she opened the door a few minutes later. “Damn! It smells good. You cooked?”

“Hey yourself,” she returned his smile with one of her own as he reached out and pulled her into a hug. “I did, hope you like fish!”

“Sure, I do.” He shrugged as he let her go, looking around her apartment. “I’m not picky at all, actually. Only thing I’ve ever eaten that I couldn’t handle was chives. Can’t stand the taste.”

She laughed. “No chives,” she promised. “Just some season salt, lemon, and garlic.” Hermione led him into the kitchen to see two plates on the table with fish and a rice dish and a couple of salads in bowls sitting next to them. She had a stasis charm on the hot food. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to eat first or take everything into the living room and eat while we watch a movie.”

Draco moved up behind Hermione and rested his chin on the top of her head as he wrapped his arms around her collar bones from behind in a friendly gesture. “That looks really good,” he started before pressing a kiss to her head and letting her go. “I didn’t know people were allowed to eat in living rooms. Let’s do that!”

She laughed and nudge him playfully as he grabbed one of the dressings on the table to dump some on his salad before picking up his food. “You want a Coke?” she asked. “Water?”

“Coke sounds great!” he enthused as he disappeared from her line of sight. Hermione grabbed the drinks from the fridge before banishing them to the coffee table and joining him on the couch with her own meal.

Even though the whole couch was open, she chose to sit thigh to thigh with Draco, who was heartily eating his fish all the while making little sounds of pleasure in his throat. “You’re a good cook,” he complimented as she made herself comfortable.

“Thanks!” she replied. “I like cooking but it’s hard to cook for one.”

Draco shrugged. “Wouldn’t know, I’ve never learned.”

“That’s a shame.” They ate quietly for a minute before Hermione snagged a remote and started getting the telly set up to start the movie.

“My dad seemed really pleased with you Friday before last.” Draco started making small talk as she pushed buttons.

“Oh, he was!” Her tone was knowing, and Draco laughed.

“You got a good reward?” he guessed.

“Only unlimited orgasms for over three hours,” she waggled her eyebrows happily.

“Nice! How?”

Hermione wanted to laugh – he was going to hate her answer. She pushed play on the movie as she answered, “His mouth…anywhere I wanted. As many times as I wanted.”

“Uhg! Lalalalalalala! TMI, Granger! TMI!”

Hermione burst into giggles. “Well, your father has a very talented tongue!”

“Gaah! No. Seriously, stop it. Honestly, witch, you have no boundaries!” he groaned, miming gagging.

She raised an eyebrow. “You asked – what the hell does that say about you?”

That brought him up short. “You’re right…what the hell is the matter with me?”

“Ha,” she chuckled and sank back into his side after grabbing her food from the coffee table once again. She curled a foot under her bum before starting in on her salad. They ate in silence while waiting for the movie to start.

“Dirty Dancing?” he questioned a couple minutes later, when the actual movie started playing.

“It’s a classic, you’ll love it,” she murmured around a mouthful of rice. “It’s sexy.”

“You’re sexy,” he corrected. “This is just a movie.”

She laughed and elbowed him. “Stop,” she teased playfully. After that, they fell into silence and Hermione found herself contemplating her new-found friendship with one of her old rivals. They had been making time for each other frequently these days, often catching at least one lunch a week. After switching their chosen venues to Muggle instead of magical, they had easily avoided anymore tabloid gossip.

It had been effortless to cultivate their friendship. Draco was fun and funny, and they had a lot in common. They could talk for hours, simply going from one topic to the next without pause like a couple of beauty shop biddies. They liked to gossip, but also discussed politics and work. He was of a different intelligence level then most of the people she spent time with. Things that bored her other friends kept him engaged for hours. Recently they had decided they would start bringing each other books or articles to read that they had found interesting and then would discuss them at a different time.

The touching, teasing, and easy banter probably made outsiders think they were a couple, and Hermione couldn’t deny that there was an underlying attraction there. Both knowing what they did about they other, however, it was just ignored. They were aware that a relationship between them would be foolish. It couldn’t go anywhere. Neither would get what they wanted full time in the bedroom. Besides that, Hermione was in deep with Snape. She wouldn’t do anything to mess that up and both she and Draco knew it.

Instead, the affection they gave each other was more of a comfort thing. Their friendship, only months old, felt ancient. She felt as close to Draco most days as she did with Ron and Harry.

“Well, damn,” Draco whispered fifteen minutes later. Their plates were empty and sitting in front of them. “Can you dance like that?” he asked as he draped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her closer to his side.

“No,” she giggled. “Can you?”

“I’d be willing to find out!” he pulled back and wiggled his eyebrows at her.

She busted out laughing. “You’re insane,” she told him with a silly grin.

“Certifiable,” he agreed before pulling a pillow off the floor and plopping it on his lap. “Here.” He gestured for her to lay down and she did happily, sighing when his fingers dug into her hair and his other moved to rest on the concave of her side. They watched the movie in comfortable silence for a long time. Until the scene with Baby and Johnny in his little camp apartment and her impassioned declaration.

_“And most of all I’m scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I’m with you!”_

Draco contemplated that for a moment, watching with interest. He assumed some sexy sexy was coming shortly but was still caught up in the character’s little speech. Had he ever felt that way? No. Not with anyone. He’d dated Astoria Greengrass for a time after school, and he’d been fond of her, but he had never felt like he could live without her. Since then it had been little flings here and there with most of his focus being on Domme’s at the club. Once he realized that he wanted the dynamic of a D/s relationship in his everyday life, dating women in the “normal” population just hadn’t cut it anymore.

“Have you ever felt like that?” he murmured.

“Like what?”

“Can you stop this? Or does it mess it up?” he asked, suddenly wanting to talk more than he wanted to finish the movie.

“I can pause it.” She nudged her shoulder to indicate she needed to sit and Draco moved his arm off her waist. A second later they were facing each other.

“What she said – that Baby girl,” Draco explained.

“The whole ‘never feeling that way the rest of my life’ thing?” Hermione clarified.

“Yeah, that thing.”

Hermione was quiet for a long moment. “Not until recently,” she admitted. Draco was amused to see a deep blush creep up her face.

“Snape?” He wasn’t sure he could be more surprised.

“Yeah.”

“Damn.”

“I know, it’s … well it’s frustrating how one has no control over those kinds of reactions.” Hermione’s face became thoughtful. “I don’t think Severus has any idea just how much hold he has over my emotions. I’ve thought it before, I’m sure I’ll think it again, he could break my heart in a minute if he so desired.”

“That bad, huh?” Draco murmured pensively.

“Yeah.”

“Damn.”

“What about you?” Hermione inquired.

“No,” he answered. “Never. Although my gut reaction to Millie came as close to it as anything before. But…it’s Millie. I don’t think anything serious could ever happen between her and me. Too much history.”

“One could say the same for me and Severus – he was my teacher for Merlin’s sake!” This made Draco fall into another thoughtful silence, contemplating the truth of her statement. “Has she said anything to you?” Hermione prodded after a few moments.

“Not since your stage show,” he sighed. “She’s at the club a lot, but I’ve never seen her take anyone to play. People kind of rally around her and she always seems to be watching everything, but she hasn’t played with anyone that I know of. The only person I’ve seen her interact with is you.”

“So, she’s checking things out and getting to know people.” Hermione shrugged. “Draco, do you want her to want you? Now that you know it’s Millie? Are you still interested?”

Hermione was not surprised when her friend dropped his head into his hands and tugged on his hair in frustration. “I don’t know. I mean – you’ve seen her – she’s a total knock out. I certainly wouldn’t mind getting my hands on her delicious arse.” He paused when Hermione let out a light chuckle. “But I don’t know – it’s Millie! The girl who used to torment me – ”

“ – and me!”

“ – and _everyone_ at school! She was a right ol’ nightmare, wasn’t she?”

“Did you ever think that maybe she did that to compensate?” Hermione questioned gently.

“What do you mean?”

“Well…people weren’t very nice to her, you know.”

“I _don’t_ know – what do you mean?”

“Draco. She was not well liked,” she sounded impatient and realized she was lecturing him, yet seemed unable to stop herself. _Yup, just like being friends with Harry and Ron…emotional range of a teaspoon._ “She was overweight, had terrible acne, and was mean. People were always calling her names. You know in second year, I tried to sit with her in the library and make small talk. I felt bad for her – so I thought maybe she just needed a friend and she’d be more pleasant. She purposely knocked my ink over and sent a static charm at my hair – it took me a _week_ to calm my hair down. You remember how terrible it was – imagine a damned static charm on top of it! The following week was that stupid dueling club with Snape and Lockhart, and she used the fight that broke out as an excuse to put me in a headlock and give me a wet willy! I never spoke to her again after that. She terrified me! If I’m being honest, she _still_ terrifies me!”

Draco burst out laughing at her story, clutching his middle. “That absolutely sounds like Millie! She was a terror!”

“Seeing how she’s changed, I think it was a defense mechanism.”

This sobered Draco and he searched Hermione’s gaze thoughtfully. “Yeah, maybe you’re right,” he agreed begrudgingly. “I _was_ a prat to her. Perhaps I deserved the name calling.”

“I remember,” Hermione said softly. “In fourth year, didn’t she ask you to the Yule Ball?”

Draco’s face paled alarmingly as the memory was dredged from the recesses of his mind. “Yeah…she did. I…I laughed at her.”

“I’m pretty sure I remember the words ‘Why would I take a fat pig like you?’”

“I really was an arsehole, wasn’t I?” The words were groaned out as he sank back into the davenport. “Fuck.”

“I think…” Hermione paused. “Forgive me if I’m being presumptuous, but I think you were an arrogant fourteen-year-old prat. You’re not that kid anymore, though, Draco.” She reached out and touched his knee lightly. “You’re a good man. If you think something great could happen with M, you should ask her out. Show her the grown-up you.” She blushed a little with her next words. “Anyone would be lucky to snag you, Draco.”

Draco took the opportunity to lighten the conversation. “Anyone?” he leered, slowly sitting up straight. Hermione’s brow crinkled at his change in tone, but she didn’t realize where he was going.

“Of course,” she smiled.

“You?”

Her eyes grew wide. “We agreed that would be a terrible idea, Draco…why would you sa–” She shrieked a little when he pounced at her, his fingers digging mercilessly into her sides, making the screech turn into gales of laughter.

“NO!” she bellowed. “Stop! I hate being tickled!” she gasped through more giggles as she squirmed and tried to get away. He didn’t relent, instead he threw his leg over her hips and straddled her as he continued his tickle torture.

“Ah!!!” More laughing – the deep, obnoxious, from-the-belly kind – poured out of her to the point where Draco started to laugh as well. Hermione got her hands between them and started tickling his side which caused his laughs to deepen and become a bit hysterical. Scrambling, he rolled them to the floor and landed on top of her as he seized her hands in his and pushed them up over her head. She was still screaming with laughter as he moved both of her wrists into one hand and continued to tickle her with the other.

“Ooooo, Draco!!” she half sobbed, half chortled. “Stooop!!! Hahahaha!!!”

“Get _off_ her!”

It was a new voice – one that startled them both into complete silence with the exception their heavy breathing.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, sitting up so quickly that she knocked her head on Draco’s chin.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, jerking his face away from her.

“Draco! I’m so sorry!” Hermione grabbed his face in her hands and tilted his head to survey the damage.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?” Ron’s choked, horrified voice made Hermione freeze and close her eyes in exasperation. Just what she needed. Daddy Potter and his overprotective side-kick, Ronald Weasley.

“Up!” she told Draco, pushing him off her. “You’re fine!” she added when he mumbled something about “head butt” and “hurting” and “kiss it better”.

Draco settled himself onto the couch, smirking at Pot-head and the Weasel as Hermione picked herself up from the floor and brushed her clothing off. “Hi, guys,” she said a little too innocently. “What are you doing – oh, honestly! Put those away!” She added in an exclamation when she noticed both Harry and Ron’s wands pointed right at Draco. She glanced back at the blond to see him with a ridiculous smirk on his face. _Wonderful, he’s going to be no help._

“Dropping in.” Harry answered her question through clenched teeth as Ron hesitantly lowered his wand, glancing from Harry to Hermione and then back to Draco.

“That’s nice of you,” Draco drawled, crossing his left leg to balance his ankle over his right knee while spreading his arms out along the back of the couch. “Doll always says she doesn’t get enough time with you two anymore.”

Hermione’s eyes widened at the use of her Dungeon nick name in the present company and her head swiveled to give Draco a death glare. She was pleased when her expression made him swallow hard and drop his sneer.

“I thought you were dating Snape?” Ron looked completely bewildered. “What is Ferret-boy doing in your living room? On top of you, no less?”

“We were watching a movie,” Hermione defended. “And I _am_ dating Snape!”

“You’re dating Snape _and_ Malfoy?” Harry’s eyebrows rose to disappear into his hairline.

“No!” she exclaimed, at the same time Draco confessed.

“I would never date Granger. Fuck her? Yes. Date her…no.”

Both Harry and Ron’s wands leveled at Draco again as Hermione shouted, “You’re not helping, Malfoy!” with a stomp of her foot. “Put your wands away! Now!” she continued in a roar at her friends who both started at her instant fury. After a beat (and after they complied) she started speaking again in a much calmer tone. “Draco and I are friends. We crossed each other’s paths recently and got to talking. Found out we have a lot in common and have been hanging out. We are _not_ dating.”

“What was he doing on top of you then?” Ron said furiously. “What are you doing in your apartment alone with him? He’s a git!”

“You’re a git, Ronald!” Hermione said waspishly. “Enough, now! Why are you two here?”

“Molly’s doing dinner tonight, almost everyone is going to the Burrow,” Harry said, still looking back and forth between Hermione and Draco suspiciously.

“I’m gonna use the loo, Granger,” Draco said softly. He stood and brushed her arm gently before moving across the now quite crowded living room. “I’ll take my time.” She watched him disappear down the hall and heard the door click shut.

“He’s been here before?” Harry questioned, realizing Draco knew right where to go.

“Yes,” she answered simply. “We’ve hung out a couple times here.”

“How long have you been _hanging out_ with him?” Ron asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Apparently, he didn’t believe her when she said they weren’t dating.

“About a month.”

“Why do I feel like you’re keeping something from us, ‘Mione?” Harry said so quietly both she and Ron had to lean in to hear him.

Hermione felt her stomach drop. What the hell was she supposed to say to that? She _was_ keeping something from them, but her sex life was absolutely none of their business. “Do I have to tell you guys everything?” she inquired just as softly. “Can’t I have some things that are just mine?”

That brought Harry up short and his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water before she continued. “I love you guys, but this stopping over unannounced and poking your nose and unwanted opinions into my dating and sex life ends now.” Both Harry and Ron flinched – probably the thought of her having a sex life with Snape. _If only they knew…_ “You could have sent me an owl about dinner tonight – I feel like you’re trying to catch me doing something. You might want to rethink that. What if you had walked in here to Draco and I screwing? How would we all be feeling right now? Do I need to disconnect my floo from yours?”

“No, don’t do that, ‘Mione!” Ron answered adamantly even as he winced again at another unwanted image. “Luna and Ginny’d be pissed. We’re just worried about you, you know? You’ve been so…different lately.”

“Happy, you mean?” Hermione challenged. Both boys simultaneous shoved their hands into their pockets and Harry looked up through his messy hair sheepishly.

“We like seeing you happy, ‘Mione,” Harry told her. “It’s just a little flabbergasting that it’s Snape make you this way.”

 _Well…_ she mused silently _…and Lucius…and we’ve gotta give Draco some credit, too._ “Let’s just say the changes in my life have been positive. I’m crazy about Severus – he’s been wonderful. I’m really enjoying getting to know Draco better, and I’ve been spending time with Lucius Malfoy, as well. You know he and Snape own a small business together?” She cut Ron off before he could ask what kind of a business. “He’s a very interesting man,” she paused for just a moment. “I’m actually having dinner with him tonight to discuss some things. He and Severus are interested in putting me on retainer for their business as their old lawyer just retired. As Lucius handles the financial aspect of the business…” She trailed off.

Harry and Ron were staring at her like she had grown a second head. “What?!” She knew she sounded a bit defensive, but she wasn’t lying to them. The Dungeon’s lawyer _had_ retired, and Snape had asked her if she had any recommendations because he didn’t care for the man’s partner. She had given him a couple names, and though she hadn’t really ever practiced any business aspects of law, it didn’t mean she couldn’t learn, so she also offered herself. It would give her something new to dig into and meant she’d spend an afternoon every week in his presence to go over books and legal paperwork.

“Nothing!” Harry said quickly.

“Yeah, no worries,” Ron added. “We’ll let everyone know you had a business meeting…”

“…with Lucius Malfoy,” Harry finished, eyebrow raised incredulously.

“You do that, then,” she sighed and dropped her defensive stance. She brought one hand up and ran it through her messy locks. “I have Thursday lunch free, can you two join me? I know it’s been a couple weeks since we’ve hung out.”

Ron relaxed, and a smile crept onto Harry’s face. “That sound brilliant,” Harry told her. “I’m free – Ron?”

“Yup!”

“It’s a date, then,” she told them before crossing the short distance between them and hooking her arms around each of their necks, hugging them to her. They squeezed her back for a moment before letting her go.

“We’ll leave you to … Malfoy … then.” Ron’s nose was wrinkled with disgust. “You really like spending time with him?”

“Yeah,” Hermione giggled at his expression. “I do. He’s not the same as when we were kids. You two knew that, though.”

“We did?” Ron pretended not to know what she was talking about while Harry jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow. “Oof…I mean, yeah. We know. Just didn’t expect you to become besties with the guy.”

“Neither did I.” Hermione started ushering them back towards the fireplace. “Funny how life takes unexpected twists, huh?” _If only they knew how unexpected._

She sighed deeply when the green flames of her floo died. She heard Draco come out of the bathroom, but her gaze remained on the empty grate. “You all right?” he questioned gently, settling his hands on her shoulders. Hermione leaned back into him.

“Do your friends know? About you being a submissive?” She turned into him and Draco wrapped one arm around her shoulders before he dropped a cheek to the top of her head.

“Theo does,” Draco answered truthfully. “He comes to the club sometimes. Blaise doesn’t – but he wouldn’t get it. He’s a guy’s-guy.” He shrugged as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. “He wouldn’t understand my need to submit to a woman like that.” They held each other in silence for a few moments before Draco murmured against her hair. “I know they’re really special to you – Potter and Weasley – I get that. You three went through a lot together. Do you really think they have the right to know, though? Do they tell you about their sex lives?”

Hermione shuddered and wrinkled her nose. “No – and I don’t want to hear about it, either. What if they find out though? I think they’d be upset that I didn’t talk to them about it.”

“If they find out and you feel the need to explain yourself – I’d cross that bridge if it happens,” he suggested as he took the end of a lock of her hair between his thumb and forefinger and rubbed. He tugged it affectionately before pulling back from her. “There’s no need for an awkward conversations unless you have to, right?”

She gave him a tremulous smile and nodded. Then her expression darkened. “So…you’d fuck me, but not date me?”

Draco’s eyebrows shot up and he smirked playfully. “We’ve already established that, Granger. No need to look so offended.”

“Hmm,” she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a speculative look. “Next time – don’t be an instigator. That could have gotten deadly.”

“I’m not afraid of the Potter and his Weasel.”

Hermione tried to remain stern but after a moment they were both laughing again.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Taboo subject material in this chapter

* * *

Hermione was glowing. Then again, she was always glowing at the end of a date with Severus Snape. Who would have ever guessed what a romantic charmer the man could be if he put his mind to it? It seemed the more time they spent together, the more it was not enough. Not that she was still counting, but their eighth date – the one they were currently on – had been more perfect than any other.

 

Valentine’s Day was on Wednesday, and because she had a training session that evening he had suggested they celebrate tonight. Snape had arranged with Lucius and one of his other managers to take a Saturday night off work. Which Lucius assured her was unprecedented.

The atmosphere had been wonderful. He had told her to dress up, so she had by recycling the dress Lucius had given her for New Year’s and adding lace stockings and black stilettos. She had left her hair down, taming it into sleek curls that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. Her makeup had been left natural with the exception of a deep cranberry lip color. If the way his jaw had worked when she had opened her apartment door for him coupled with his quiet, “Merlin, you’re beautiful” was anything go by – she had quite succeeded in her mission.

As always, the proximity of him had been thrilling. They had wined and dined…and _danced_ – which she had not been expecting. He had chosen a fancy French restaurant with tuxedoed waiters and a four-piece quartet. Just as on New Year’s, Snape had led her expertly around the dance floor.

Tonight had been special, but it had been their last few dates that had started filling her mind with thoughts of everyday life in this wizard’s company. There had been simple lunch dates in the middle of the week and they had done a meal and then the movies for their day-long Saturday outing. One evening she had joined him in his private quarters at the club and _he_ had cooked! His spaghetti Bolognese, garlic bread, and salad had been to die for. After, they had snuggled on the couch and he had read aloud from a book of poetry he’d been pursuing and thought she might like. If anything had been knicker-dropping, it was that moment in and of itself.

Somehow, they had kept their hands pretty much to themselves. Oh, there had been heated kisses, gentle caresses, and casual touches of affection, but nothing like when they had been in her apartment the afternoon following her stage performance. They were both holding tight to their desire for each other, afraid to slip and disappoint Lucius.

“Come up for tea?” Hermione asked. “It’s cold and your hands are freezing. It’ll warm you up before I send you home.” Her eyes were large and pleading and Snape found himself answering in the affirmative before he could think better of it.

It had been such an electrically charged evening. Her dress was sexy as hell and her toned, lace covered legs looked amazing in stilettos. He was looking forward to fucking her in those shoes someday. Trying to clear the dangerous thoughts, he shook his head as the elevator doors closed on them.

In the small enclosed space, the heat around them seemed to thicken and Snape had to close his eyes and start reciting Potion ingredients before he acted on his inappropriate thoughts. Perhaps tea hadn’t been such a great idea tonight. There was just too much underlying sexual tension coupled with some pretty severe frustration. Six weeks of dating this witch was only making his desire for her stronger. The more he got to know her personality and her mind, the deeper he got and the more he wanted to unlock every secret of her body as well. To claim her fully and make her his in every sense of the word. So much so, that he had recently made a trip into Diagon Alley and commissioned a collar to be made for her. Optimistic? Maybe. But the moment he could, he would make her his fully. No one would be able to touch her without his explicit permission, and he wasn’t so sure he’d be sharing at all – ever.

Minutes later Hermione was letting them into her apartment. The air pulsed around them when she closed the door and she froze in the act of removing her cloak, her eyes locking with his in awed surprise. _Fuck…_ He swallowed hard and broke their connection by concentrating on removing his own outer robes. His teeth clenched, and her breathing sped when her fingers brushed his as she took the garment from him. The minute she turned to reveal the backless dress that had been taunting him all night, the fight left him. It was over.

She was closing the closet door gently when Snape stalked her and pressed the length of his body against her back before sinking his hands into her curls. He pushed her hair out of the way and dropped his mouth seductively to her neck. She gasped and moaned in her throat when his teeth nipped her nape before marking a trail of Fiendfyre her to her ear. “This was a terrible idea, Miss Granger,” he growled into the delicate cartilage, making her shiver.

“I’m beginning to realize that,” she murmured as her neck twisted, so she was able to look him in the face. Not removing her eyes from him, she slowly turned into his embrace and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Snape couldn’t help but close his eyes when her nails scored into his hair, scratching his scalp gently before she tugged his mouth to hers. Her lips were pillow soft and her tongue tasted of the wine and the crème brûlée they had shared after dancing. It was a sweet kiss, slow and a bit tentative.

 

He kissed her at the end of every date but often tried to keep the kisses – if not chaste – then short. Neither of them seemed to be able to keep their heads once their lips met. He attempted to bring the kiss to an end, had every good intention on stopping it before things got out of hand, but she whimpered a protest and her fists tightened in his hair and he was lost.

 

Lost as his hands slid down her bare back to grab her arse.

 

Lost as he gripped the firm globes and picked her up effortlessly.

 

Lost as the feel of her legs wrapping around his hips caused his cock to swell alarmingly.

 

There was no conscious thought and there was no stopping it. Before either of them knew what was happening, he was tossing her on the bed before crawling over the top of her to reclaim her mouth. Hermione’s arms were back around him with her nails digging into his suit coat to bunch it and try and shove it from his shoulders. He moved his mouth to her neck and suckled the sweet-smelling skin of her throat as he shuffled, trying to help her get the jacket off his person. Legs around his hips again, she rolled her torso and the heat of her gusset permeated the wool of his pants as the friction engulfed his cock. She sobbed out a gasp just as he freed his arms and flung his coat.

 

Her fingers were working his cravat as his hand dragged up one stockinged leg. The moment he hit the bare skin at the top of it he groaned and shoved her dress up around her waist. “I cannot wait to sink myself into you, princess,” he hissed against her throat before rising to take her mouth again.

 

“Yes!” she pleaded against his lips, her whole body jerking as his hands caressed the skin of her abdomen. “Please!” They resumed their kissing and frantic touches, still attempting to remove stubborn articles of clothing. It was when her hands met the bare skin of his neck and upper chest that he froze. The sensitized scar tissue of Nagini’s bite blazed under her touch, but it also hurt just enough (as it had for the last nine years) to bring him back to his senses.

 

“Shit!” he choked out, ripping himself out of her arms and rolling to sit on the edge of the bed. His elbows hit his knees at the same time he buried his frustrated features into his fingers. “Fuck!” he slapped the edge of her bed and pushed himself to stand, striding a safe distance away before turning back to her.

 

Hermione was sitting on her knees in the center of her puffy white comforter and her eyes were wide with surprised, but still a bit glazed with lust. She looked ravished, her hair wild, her lips swollen, and her dress riding high on her thighs. It was quite the provocative image and he had to turn away again to gather his bearings.

 

“I’m sorry!” she whispered fiercely after a moment. “I just…I can’t seem to help myself sometimes. There’s just this…charge, this magnetism with you…I – ” She broke herself off, shaking her head in confusion.

 

Snape crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back into a bookshelf, chancing another glance at her. Her lips were trembling. Fuck, he didn’t want her to cry. “There’s no need to apologize, I got just as swept up in it as you.” He let out a loud sigh and swiped a hand down his face. “I’m just…I’m glad I was pulled back to my senses. I would not have cared to tell Lucius what had happened had we continued.”

 

“I’m grateful as well,” she murmured. “He’d’ve been so disappointed with me.” Now he was sure she was going to cry.

 

“Hermione.” She looked up at him, surprised by the gentleness of his tone. “Please do not be upset – nothing untoward happened. We stopped in plenty of time. We do have his permission to touch and kiss. You have nothing to feel guilty for.”

 

She let out a mirthless laugh. “This is the most bizarre conversation ever,” she told him while flopping back on her pillows, her arms resting lightly next to her head with her palms up. “Isn’t this surreal? I don’t have permission to have sex with my boyfriend because my Master controls my body.”

 

The air in the room stilled quite suddenly, like someone had sucked it all away, and Hermione felt her belly flip flop when she realized what she had said. She could feel her face flush pink and one hand automatically moved to cover her eyes in horror. Merlin – they had not discussed labels. Not really. It had been mentioned in a passing, fleeting fashion during conversation, but now she had just spouted out that she thought of him as her boyfriend.

 

“I have to say I have never been in this position before either,” Snape’s voice cut through the thick air like a hot knife through butter. “Then again, I’m the one who hasn’t had a girlfriend in over nine years – so I think I have a better excuse.”

 

The tension drained from her body and she lifted her hand to peek at him. Her breath was instantly stolen, he was grinning at her. He was across the room, still in his defensive stance, but he was _grinning_. He smiled much more these days then she had ever seen him in her youth (in fact she couldn’t be sure she had _ever_ seen him smile in her youth), but these full-on grins were few and far between. She triumphed in every single one she could pull out of him as they transformed his face completely.

 

Hermione sat up slowly, her eyes locked to his, knowing a stupid grin had claimed her face as well. “Yeah?” she asked.

 

“Yes,” he responded. Cautiously, he moved back across the small space and caught her chin in his hand. He caressed her face as he kissed her lightly across the mouth. “With that – I must leave,” he said as he pulled back. “I just don’t trust myself alone in a bedroom with you.”

 

She smirked at him. “So much for that tea that never gets drank when we come up here,” she said teasingly.

 

“My hands aren’t cold anymore,” he teased her back. “I used your skin to warm them.”

 

She flushed prettily, and he laughed. “Tuesday night seven o’clock? My turn to cook?” she asked him.

 

“I can’t Tuesday, Thursday?”

 

“Thursday works for me,” she smiled.

 

“I could do lunch on Tuesday?” The words were hesitant and his expression cautious, as if he didn’t dare ask for that much of her time.

 

“Most definitely – and Saturday afternoon?”

 

His face smoothed and he smiled lightly. “Yes.” He dropped another kiss to her lips before moving them up to her forehead. “Goodnight, Hermione.”

 

“Goodnight, Severus.” She would have walked with him to help with his coat and see him into the floo, but she read in his body language the difficulty he was having with leaving and knew he’d ask her to stay put. Her door clicked quietly behind him.

* * *

Three days later, Snape sat down at his desk and noticed Britt on the monitors. Leaning back in his chair, he paused to watch her with yet another Dominant. This was the third one in the last two weeks. Tonight’s Dominant, Laurent, was known for his interest in rather intense breast bondage as well as needle play. His tastes were not Snape’s and Snape had thought they were not Britt’s either. She had been trending towards Dominants who were known for more extreme scenes and he couldn’t help but be surprised by her apparent change in appetite. It seemed to Snape that he had been holding her back.

Looking to at the main entrance monitor, his interest peaked when a masked witch whom he had not seen in over a year entered. Natalia was a Russian diplomat’s wife. A high-ranking diplomat who had no inkling of his wife’s submissive side or her penchant for role play. He was high up the political ladder and his wife was well aware of his dalliances on the side. She had once told Snape she didn’t care who her husband slept with as long as he was discreet. She in turn felt no guilt when her fetish led her to other men’s bedrooms, and she had been to Snape’s bedroom multiple times. She was one of only a few who had ever been there.

While older than Snape at almost fifty, the middle-aged blonde was stunning and elegant and had a wild side Snape loved to unleash. Her husband’s job kept her restrained by protocol and decorum. Public opinion was life and death for a politician after all. However, when she was with Snape all that went away, and she unleashed into a wildcat. There had not only been fun scenes and role play that would make even the most hardened criminals blush, but flat out intense fucking. She could drink vodka like it was water and many times they had drunk their way through a bottle before passing out in his flat. Lucius had joined them in the playroom on occasion and Snape was quite sure the witch had been to the Manor more than once. She was a great fuck. Feeling his arousal swell, he exited the office.

As he made his way, a small unease nibbled at him. Hermione’s soft brown eyes looked at him in his mind’s eye as her words from a few weeks before echoed in his ears, “I’m contracted to another wizard. How could I possibly ask from you what I cannot give in return?” But it was the unspoken implication that pecked at him. Just because she didn’t ask for his celibacy didn’t mean she didn’t desire it. In truth he had been so busy that, except for one delivered spanking followed by a five-minute blow-job a few weeks before, he hadn’t so much as looked at another witch much less touched one.

His right hand was going to get callouses if he didn’t ease up with the wanking. He just hadn’t had the desire to scene with other witches.  Work had been more demanding the past month as a shift manager had resigned and he had yet to find a replacement. He was tired and when he had free time he spent it with Hermione as able. This, of course, always led to a date with Rosy Palm and a cold shower.

Shaking off the uncomfortable feeling, he reminded himself that Hermione was submitting to and fucking another man on a regular basis. Besides, Natalia was rarely in the UK. It might be another year before he would see her, and if things progressed with Hermione the way he hoped they would, he might not be free to scene with the Russian beauty ever again. No, he would not feel guilty. He would enjoy this witch, perhaps more than once if her stay was extended.

“Natalia, you’ve been away far too long,” he drawled as she handed her coat off to the coat check, Lola.

Natalia turned to him and put her hands behind her back as she responded with a small smile, “Master Snape, I’m afraid I’ve been verrry bad since you’ve last seen me. I feel the need to confess and repent.” Her voice was rich and heavily accented.

His eyes scanned her charcoal grey silk dress which barely concealed a large bust. A white pearl necklace and a set of matching pearl earrings screamed propriety and proper wife, while her eyes screamed the opposite. “Well, just your luck. The priest is receiving confessions tonight.”  

A few minutes later they had made their way upstairs to one of Natalia’s favorite fetish rooms. A room which had pews facing a pulpit and altar, as well as charmed cathedral ceilings and huge stained-glass windows. This room was for very specific play – play that the Russian witch was quite partial to. She slipped off her mask as Snape led her to the confessional on the right side of the room.

They each entered their respective spaces and he waited for her to start. Her voice sounded nervous and pained with regret. (She was quite adept at role play.) “Forrrgive me, Father forrr I have sinned; it one yearrr since my last konfession. I accuse myself of the following naughty deeds.”

When she didn’t continue, he prompted her. “Proceed my child, for no sin is beyond forgiveness if the appropriate penance is offered.”

“Vell, you see, Father. I have been having inappropriate thoughts. Inappropriate desires.”

“What kind of thoughts? What kind of desires?”

“It’s, vell, I don’t vish to shock you… desires of fornication vith men other zan my husband.”

“Have you acted on these desires?”

“I’m ashamed to say I have, Father. I…I have had sex vith at least sixty men out of vedlock in past yearrr.”

Hardly able to contain his laugh, he played along. “That is grave behavior, indeed. Is there more to confess?”

“Vell, it’s vasn’t just sex. Zerrre vas oral…stimulation as vell. And deviant interrraction.”

“Perhaps an example.”

“Da, Father. Vell, one time, ias vith five men at once. One took me as a dog takes a bitch, vile another… he…he put his penis in my mouth and I _… liked_ it. Zen another…”

Severus knew he should be ready to go by now. This was not their first time in the confessional. A confessional which they used for glory hole play on multiple occasions. He was normally hard before she started confessing and was surprised he wasn’t raring to go yet. He fished his semi-hard member out of his trousers and began to stroke.

“Yes, go on.”

“Vell, one made me kall him Daddy…and I liked zat as vell, Father. Another told me I vas a bad little girrrl and spanked me vith his belt.”

As she continued her confession he continued to stroke himself until he was fully hard. An idea came to mind. “I feel your penance will be extensive and an exorcism of the deviant demon that has clearly possessed your innocent mind will be necessary. You will need to undress completely and lay upon the altar.”

“Da, Father. Right avay.”

Stepping out of the confessional, he found Natalia already naked and walking towards the altar and behind the pulpit. She had a beautiful body with large breasts, a small waist, shapely hips, and long, toned legs. He smiled to himself as he approached her. This was going to be fun. Stretching out on the altar, she trembled slightly as she looked up at him with wide eyes. She really was quite the actress.

“I need to place my hands on you. If you become aroused, we will have a long night ahead of us exercising the demons from your infested soul.”

She arched her back as he placed his hands over her breasts and moaned wantonly as he caressed her nipples, causing them to harden instantly. His right hand stroked down her stomach as his left released his member from the confines of his trousers.

“Hmmm. Let’s see how you respond to a man’s penis before you.”

Snape stepped closer to her face and grabbed the back of her head. The minute she opened her mouth for his impending entrance their eyes met, and he froze. This blue eyed, blonde haired beauty, laying out before him was stunning and kinky and knew how to fuck like a succubus on steroids, but he felt himself instantly deflate. The wrong eyes were looking up at him. Not warm and brown, but icy and blue. Instead of wild, chestnut-brown locks with curls that begged to be tamed, there was silky straight blonde hair pulled up neatly and contained in a bun screaming for release. Instead of hand sized pert breasts, large and heavy globes heaved before him. It hit him so hard, it nearly knocked the wind out of him. He didn’t _want_ this witch.

Regaining his focus and realizing he had a needy witch staring at his now flaccid member with shock, he acted quickly. “I’m afraid this is a job for multiple priests, my child.” Her eyes lit up like fire and he was thrilled he had an answer. They had scened with others many times and it was something she was normally into. “I must leave you briefly to consult my colleagues. Please recite an Act of Contrition until I return.”

He knew he would only be gone a few minutes. The room temperature was warm, so she would be fine until he came back. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he spotted Lucius shortly after entering the main area. “Luc, Natalia’s upstairs raring to go. I’m looking for volunteers.”

Lucius grinned. “Ah, what a treat. She proving to be too much for you tonight, my friend?”

“Something like that,” he scowled in return as his eyes darted about the room.

“Hmm, clubs not too crowded but I did see Cassius and Marty chatting up a witch a few minutes ago. They’re usually up for group action.”

“Perfect, where were they?”

“Near the bar.” Sensing Snape seemed a bit frazzled and not his usual calm and collected self, Lucius added, “Come find me after she leaves, or you’re done with the scene.”

“Yeah, okay,” Snape answered distractedly as he headed for the bar.

Twenty minutes later found Snape and the two aforementioned Dominants strapping Natalia to the cross over the altar. Severus assumed the role of lead exorcist and acted as director as the two enthusiastic men began to beat the demons out of the witch with floggers.

Snape had to admit this was a fucked-up fetish. If his years as a Death Eater hadn’t paved his road to hell, then this act of sacrilege certainly had. It wasn’t a real church and they weren’t really defiling an alter and cross in a house of God, but the imitation was pretty realistic. Yep, his only hope was St. Peter had a wicked sense of humor.

When the flogging stopped, and Natalia had become more comfortable with the two men, Snape sat on the front pew and watched as they tag-teamed the witch. His mind distractedly wandered to Hermione and he wondered if she would be into threesomes. She had certainly enjoyed the dual spanking from Lucius and him.  Watching the blonde beauty lay her back on top of Cassius as he entered her arse from behind, while Marty draped himself over her and fucked her from the front left Snape hard as steel. He stroked himself as he imagined Hermione being taken thus between himself and Lucius. It would have to be Lucius. There was no other wizard Snape would be willing the share his witch with, and even that was questionable.

Snape climaxed into his hand as the three on the altar reached their own completion. As the scene wrapped up, he reassumed his role as lead exorcist and proclaimed her innocent soul restored. Cassius and Marty, quite taken with Natalia, insisted she seek them out if another demon possessed her in the future.

After Natalia had dressed, she took Snape’s hand and pulled him next to her in the last pew. Giving him a knowing look, she spoke in her thick and glorious Russian accent. “You’ve met someone. I kan tell. You have a farrravay look about you and you verrren’t interrrested in parrtaking pleasurrre vith me tonight.”

“I’m sorry, Natalia. It isn’t you.”

“Oh, I know zat,” she said with a wave of her hand. She was not a humble witch by any means. He smiled at her as she laughed. “Vell, I am happy forrr you. Perrrhaps I vill meet her? Orrr him?”

“Her, Natalia. Definitely a _her_.”

“Vell, I’ve seen you vith a _he_ beforrre. So, I know possibility is zerrre.”

“Only a couple times, Natalia, for curiosity sake.” He watched her as she touched up her makeup while looking at herself in her compact. “How long are you here this time?”

“Only until tomorrrow. Ve leave forrr Kanada in afterrrnoon.”

* * *

Severus was looking over the latest issue of Play Wizard in the office when Lucius entered via the Floo. Lucius peeked over Snape’s shoulder as the dark-haired wizard opened it to the centerfold. They both cocked their heads as they assessed Miss February’s attributes.

“I don’t know why you order this, Lucius.” Snape tossed the magazine dismissively back into the pile of posts while Lucius slipped off his cloak.

“For the articles, of course,” Lucius responded with a chortle. “And for inspiration.”

Snape cocked a brow as he opened a letter. “We get plenty of inspiration right here, my friend.”

“Well, that’s certainly true, but December’s issue was the Quidditch issue. Witches on racing brooms and posing with Beater bats and Bludgers. The centerfold was glorious and was entitled _‘Snitch on Her Snatch’_. It gave me the inspiration for a delightful scene with Doll.”

Snape spun around and looked at Lucius expectantly. His blond friend continued with a wide grin, “Let’s just say her bum got quite a workout keeping that little bugger from escaping.”

Snape rolled his eyes. “You and your Quidditch.” He spun back around to face his desk. “We have beautiful witches in all shapes and sizes who offer a plethora of possibilities right here, Lucius. Photographs are doctored and fake.” He gestured at the monitors. “These beauties are the real deal.”

Lucius sat at his desk, his chair turned so he was facing Snape. “So, speaking of beautiful witches and the possibilities they offer, did you have fun with Natalia last night?”

Tossing a letter into the rubbish bin, he replied with well-practiced, evasive ease. “She always provides ample entertainment as you very well know, having sampled the goods many times yourself.”

“Well, I was surprised you were looking for backup last night,” Lucius pushed.

“It’s where the scene led, Luc. You know how insatiable that witch can be,” he replied as he opened the last piece of mail.

Lucius chuckled. “Yes, I do. But why do I feel there is something you aren’t telling me? You seemed somewhat…frazzled last night. And you’ve not been quite been yourself lately.”

Snape could feel his patience slipping. While he didn’t want to talk about it, the truth was he had been greatly shaken by what had happened. He had never in his adult life been unable to maintain an erection pre-ejaculation during a scene. He made potions for other wizards for such issues, but this was never a problem for him. What was worse, he knew that his problem wasn’t physical in nature.

It was that little minx of a witch who was turning his world upside down. Beauty and brains with brown eyes that he couldn’t put away. Caramel irises that were disappointed in him for seeking pleasure in another witch. For no matter what she said about fairness and assuring him he was free to scene and have sex with others, he knew she wasn’t saying what she truly wanted. He knew because he knew how he himself felt. It was bad enough she was contracted to Lucius, but if the tables were turned? If she were the one working at The Dungeon and was free to scene with anyone?  It would drive him to the brink of insanity.

While Lucius didn’t know what had happened the night before with Natalia, he _did_ know Snape had been a little more withdrawn than usual the past few weeks. Something was bothering his friend and Lucius was fairly certain he knew what it was. Snape was a man who was used to being in control. In control of his life and _certainly_ in control of his witches. Dating a woman whom he could not engage with sexually, much less Dominate, was surely driving the man mad. Lucius could only imagine that frustration and knew all too well he would have his own misery to contend with soon enough. It would only be weeks to a couple of months before Hermione would be finished with her training, and then Lucius would be no more to her than a good friend.

As much as Lucius was dreading losing her, he was happy for them. They were clearly crazy about each other. He did harbor concerns however, he wasn’t sure if Snape was emotionally ready, willing, and able to do right by Hermione.

Lucius loved Hermione and if he couldn’t have her for himself, he would at least protect her from heartbreak as best he could. He knew Snape cared about the witch, it had been obvious from the beginning all those months ago, but he wanted Snape to admit it. If he could be mature and open enough to just disclose some of what he was feeling, Lucius would take it for the accomplishment it was and give Hermione more sexual freedoms, so they could move their relationship along.

He gently prodded his friend. “Severus, talk to me. You haven’t been yourself lately. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours!”

“Why, Lucius? Why is it you feel the necessity to push and prod? If there was something I wished to share with you I would have already done so. Now stop acting the nagging wife and leave me be.”

“Well I would, but I have to work with your miserable ass. What’s more you’re my friend and I happen to care about you – whether you want me to or not.”

Lucius started when a jar of ink exploded against the wall as the normally reticent wizard leapt out of his chair and began to furiously pace. Snape’s face was red, and his eyes were ablaze with heat. “What do you want me to say, Lucius? You want me to say that I can’t get Hermione out of my head? You want me to say that I can’t function…that I can’t maintain a _fucking_ erection with other witches?” He met Lucius’ shocked eyes. “Because I can say that if you want me to, you greedy bastard!”

Lucius’ jaw fell as unexpected words continued to flow from Snape’s mouth.

Snape resumed his pacing. “For weeks… _weeks…_ I’ve been burying myself in work so that I didn’t have to acknowledge what I knew to be truth.” His face was tormented as he turned to his blond friend. “Hermione is the only witch for me. I…other witches just don’t – ” He looked up at the ceiling, flexing his fingers into fists as he bellowed, “FUCK!!!!”

He collapsed back into his chair, his rage deflating as anguish crept over his features. Blowing out a heavy sigh, he ran his hands through his hair. His voice was now soft with a desperation Lucius hadn’t heard before.

“I’ve never felt this way, Luc. I don’t know what to do with this. I think about her more than I should. I dread the end of every date because I don’t want to leave her. And, it’s not sex that I want – well, it _is –_ but it’s not _just_ sex. I want her sleeping next to me. I’ve never been fond of waking up with a witch in my bed, Luc. You know this! It’s a rare time I bring a woman into my personal space.” He let out a huff of air. “Its bloody moot anyway, because if I can’t fuck another witch, I’m certainly not going to lure one to my bed even if I wanted to.”  He laughed without humor as he looked at his blond friend. “I had Natalia, splayed out naked on the altar, Luc! On the altar so that I could exorcise the demons out of her magnificent body with my cock.” He shook his head, “Damnit if the second I looked at her face I didn’t see Hermione’s brown eyes looking up at me! What do I do with that?”

Lucius was absolutely stunned. He had never heard Severus Snape monologue in his entire life. He would have laughed if it had been appropriate. If it was a declaration he had wanted from Snape, he more than got it.

He was about to speak when Snape did the unthinkable and resumed talking. “Yet, when I’m with her? I get so hard I swear my cock could bench press twenty stone.”

Lucius’ eyes shot up in concern. What was Snape doing with an erection around Hermione? “What the hell are you…”

“Oh, don’t get your panties in a snit, Lucius. Nothing happened. At least nothing you would be bothered about. Kissing and some over the clothes groping. I might have pulled her dress up to her waist…she might have unbuttoned my shirt. We got a bit…carried away. But we regained our senses in time. There were no intimate touches of any kind.”

Lucius leaned back in his chair, pulling his cravat loose. He was still in his work robes. “Well, I can only imagine how hard that was,” he said softly.

In typical Snape fashion he cocked a brow. “I seriously doubt that, Luc.” He leaned back and crossed his ankles, studying his blond friend. “So, tell me. How’s she coming along? When do you anticipate she’ll be receiving her certificate of accomplishment from the Lucius Malfoy Academy of Submissive Arts?”

Lucius laughed. “Oh Severus, how I do adore you.” He spun back to his desk and began looking through some documents that needed his signature. “She’s doing quite well, actually. I’m having her update her limits list, so I can be sure nothing is being missed. A month and a half? Maybe two?”

A soft and tentative knock on the door caused Snape to spin his chair back around to his own desk. Lucius stood and opened the door. He was shocked to see Hermione, having completely forgotten he had told her to come to the office.

Hermione gazed up at Lucius to find his eyes warily looking down at her. He looked so tired, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Just as she was about to reach up and stroke his cheek, she remembered herself. This was Wednesday, not Sunday. She was Doll the submissive; not Hermione the friend. She cast her eyes down, awaiting his instruction.

Lucius smiled and lifted her chin up gently with his forefinger. “Good evening, Doll. I’m running a little behind. Go back to the main room and visit with Jonathan if you like. I’ll come retrieve you.”

“Yes, Master.”

When she didn’t move right away, but hesitated, he asked, “Was there something else, Doll?”

“Master, forgive the question, please. I was wondering if I might speak with Sever…err…Master Snape for a moment?”

Lucius was torn, and with Severus’ frame of mind he wasn’t sure how to respond. The voice from behind him made it easy. “If she wishes to speak with me, I am amenable if it is all right with you, Lucius.”

Lucius nodded. “Yes. Well then. Doll, I will expect you in the main room in ten minutes.”

“Yes, Master. Thank you.”

He stepped past her into the hallway, finding he needed the air.

Severus took a slow breath as he stood to face her, his expression giving nothing away. There they were, those doe eyes he could get lost in. He felt all the frustration and rage of only a moment before vanishing as she graced him with a small smile. He could tell she was a bit nervous as she shifted her feet and played with her hands. _Am I really that scary?_

“I know it’s a silly thing, and hardly something you would ordain to acknowledge, but I just wanted to wish you a Happy Valentine’s Day, Severus.”

Dark eyes merely watched her, meeting her gaze and giving nothing away. They cast a roaming glance up and down her form, causing her to swallow nervously. 

She looked so soft and inviting in her cream-colored cashmere wrap-around dress with brown leather boots. Her hair was pulled up loosely off her neck into a mess of windblown curls. She had clearly walked from her office and her face held a rosy glow. She was beyond beautiful. It was no wonder other witches left him wanting and unaroused. He cursed the irony as he felt his cock twitch in agreement.

His eyes stayed glued on hers, his gaze never wavering. She swallowed nervously, steeling herself to remain calm as he spoke in that same soft voice without inflection, that Snape-tone that drove her wild. “And you felt it was wise coming to see me, looking so lovely. So incredibly beautiful when you are moments away from submitting to another Dominant?”

“Oh, I. I guess I..didn’t…well, Lucius, that is...I mean Master Luc..”

He cocked a brow and she stopped talking. “Come here, Hermione.”

She took tentative steps towards him, her eyes wide with uncertainty. When she was right in front of him, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, his breath on her skin causing a shiver to cascade down her spine. “Thank you. Thank you for your sweet words and for a moment of delicious respite from the shackles of monotony this office inflicts.” He lightly kissed the soft and tender skin of her neck, just below her ear. “Have a good training session and I shall see you tomorrow for dinner at your place.”

She smiled softly. “I was thinking I’d make shrimp scampi.” She raised her brows in question. “Is that something you like? We’ve never really discussed our favorite foods and…”

Taking her hands in his he tilted both, so her palms were facing up. His long fingers wrapped around her small ones, bringing them up to his mouth. He planted multiple soft kisses on her fingertips as he whispered, “Anything these delicious little fingers conjure will be _acceptable_ , if not _exceed expectations_. I’m quite certain.”

She knew he was teasing her as his eyes were twinkling with their mirth. Seeing his comment for the playful challenge it was, she responded. “Hmmm, I’ll have you know I’m quite an _outstanding_ cook, Severus Snape.”

“I look forward to finding out, princess.”

Knowing she needed to go, she shook her head. “Okay, then. I’ll see you tomorrow at seven. G’night, Severus.” She tilted up to her toes and planted a kiss on his cheek before turning and dashing away.

He stared at the door as it closed behind her, wondering how he would make it twenty-three hours until he would see her again.

* * *

“Hermione?” Lucius was concerned, Hermione had not been herself all evening. Their Sunday night dinners were always full of lively conversation, but she had been unusually quiet. Now that he thought about it, she hadn’t quiet been herself the entire week. Another hint that something was wrong was that she absolutely loved her sweets and he had watched her push the melting ice cream around her rhubarb pie for the last ten minutes.

“Hmm?” Hermione looked up to find his worried expression and quickly sat up straight. She couldn’t do this anymore, she had to tell him what happened. She had been in a funk all week and they both knew it.

“Love, what’s wrong?” Lucius prodded before mirroring her thoughts. “You’ve been off all week.”

She made a split-second decision and dropped her eyes submissively. “I need to submit to you tonight, Master – if you are agreeable.”

Lucius, his wine glass halfway to his lips, froze at her instant change in demeanor. His eyebrows knitted in surprise. Returning his glass to the table, he responded, “Yes, Doll. I am agreeable. I take it from your behavior you wish to leave immediately?”

“Yes, Master,” she murmured quietly. Instantly tears of relief pricked her eyes and made her nose tingle. This had been the right move to make.

“Would you like to go to the Manor or the club?”

“The Manor, please.”

He signaled for the waiter and within fifteen minutes they were in the Apparition foyer of Malfoy Manor. “Prepare yourself for me in the Den, I will give you ten minutes,” he directed after taking her cloak.

“Yes, Master.” Hermione was a wreck. She had avoided telling Lucius about what had transpired with Severus the previous Saturday for the entire week. At first, she told herself that Snape was correct – what they had done had been within the parameters of the rules that had been set for her. However, the more the week dragged along the guiltier she had felt for at not talking to Lucius about what had happened. That guilt was dragging her down immensely.

Lucius was beyond shocked when he entered the Den just over ten minutes later to find Hermione in the Humble position. _A confession?_ He paused in the doorway and took in her form. She had only ever used this position the once, but it was obvious she had practiced it at some point. As always, she looked absolutely stunning. He felt his cock start to swell as his gaze roamed over the roundness of her bum.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. If she had a confession, there was a chance he would have to punish her. For that, he would need the right frame of mind. “Speak, Doll. What is your confession?”

Lucius’ heart clenched when he heard the sniffle before she spoke. It only took her couple of minutes to tell him what was on her mind and confess her guilt. When she finished, it took effort not to laugh. The poor thing – this had obviously been eating her up all week. “You may relax, Hermione. Nadu or Kneel.”

He watched her move into Nadu while contemplating what he needed to do. Of course, he had already known about what had transpired between her and Snape. His friend had told him about it earlier in the week when he confessed he was no longer interested in being with other women. Lucius hadn’t said anything to Hermione because she had done _nothing_ wrong. There was no nakedness, no inappropriate touching, and definitely no penetration. Why was this bothering her so much?

 _It’s bothering her because she_ wants _to go further with him, Lucius_ , he chided himself. _She’s approaching the topic subconsciously._ His stomach twisted uncomfortably at that notion. He bloody well knew this had been coming. Hermione and Snape had been spending hours together every week. Their dates had become more and more frequent and had lasted longer and longer.

“You will write a journal entry explaining why you felt what you did was wrong, because I feel that you were in the parameters set for you. After you’ve done that, I wish for you to explain to me whether or not you’re ready to move a step further in your sexual relationship with Severus and why. It must be logical and reasonable. Not just feelings and emotions. Are you compatible? Do you believe you are both ready to take this step? And so forth.”

 “Yes, Master,” she answered fervently.

“Is there anything else, Miss Granger?”

Hermione couldn’t help it, she looked up in complete surprise, catching his eyes. He raised an eyebrow at her inquiringly and her gaze dropped quickly. He wasn’t going to punish her? Panic seemed to sweep through her entire being. But…she needed a punishment. She still felt guilty for keeping this from him all week. Her body started to tremble and when she closed her eyes she was startled to feel tears trickle down her cheeks.

“I need to be punished,” she whispered, hardly believing the words were coming out of her mouth. She felt nauseated with what might be coming. Gods, she had hated her last punishment. “Please, Master.”

Lucius’ heart started to pound erratically. “I feel like maybe there is something you’re not telling me, Doll. Why do you feel the need to be physically punished?”

“Because I kept this from you all week when I should have told you about it immediately. I know I technically didn’t do anything wrong, sir, but not telling you – not communicating with you the way I am supposed to…” She trailed off and swallowed down a lump in her throat. “I should have trusted my gut, and I should have trusted that I could tell you anything and you would understand and be forgiving. I need to be punished for not trusting. Not trusting myself, and most importantly, not trusting you.”

Lucius cupped an elbow in one hand and covered his mouth with the other, contemplating her words. She was correct, of course, she should have listened to herself and known she could trust him. He still didn’t know how comfortable he was about giving her a punishment for this situation.

“I need to think for a moment, Doll. Make yourself comfortable on the couch,” he instructed before turning away from her. Running a hand down his face, he contemplated the best way to move forward. If he refused, the guilt she was obviously feeling would only intensify. It was his job to meet her needs, to push her limits, and to make her a stronger submissive. How could he turn this into a lesson that was appropriate for how she was feeling, though?

Hermione watched his back as he stood rigidly near the door. Was he hesitant to do this because of how her last punishment had affected them? She had to admit to herself that she was insanely worried with how a punishment would go, but she was even more worried about cleansing herself of this feeling. The shame and remorse she had needed to be dealt with. It would eat her alive until it had been.

“Humble,” he said quietly after a handful of minutes.

She hastily moved herself into position, awaiting his sentencing.

“I don’t feel this punishment is warranted, Miss Granger, but I can hear in your voice how much you feel you need this.” His tone was liquid honey, smooth and sweet. “I will comply with your request because I feel we can make a lesson out of this. You will be punished for not trusting yourself and your instincts. You will receive seven strikes with my belt after we have completed a little exercise. Stand and follow me to the library.”

Even though she felt a bit bewildered by his sentencing, she quickly scrambled to her feet and followed him through the Manor in the same way she would have followed him through the club. It was a little disconcerting to be wandering the halls in only her knickers, but if Lucius was unconcerned about privacy from his house elves, then she wouldn’t worry about it either.

It took a few minutes to get to the entrance of the library, and Lucius threw open the double doors to the great room with a bit of a flourish. He’d been looking forward to showing this room to her and couldn’t help but make a bit of a big deal out of it, even considering the circumstances. Hermione gasped in shock and appreciation when candelabras lit throughout the space and her eyes darted all over.

The Library was huge and went up two stories. The ceiling was cathedral in its making, painted in such a way it reminded her of the Sistine Chapel. There were huge world globes filling the center of the expanse with a few nooks that held desks and lamps. Bookcases were separated with large, carved spiral columns, their bases blocked and intricately designed. The bookcases and walls were wooden and stained with warm, comforting tones of brown. The balcony was scalloped and ran the edges of the entire room. It was blocked off with an ornate iron barricade. The floors were stone with alternating square and diamond patters in a creamy gold and a dark brown.

Lucius had to work to keep his face straight as his submissive looked like she was about to cream her knickers just because of the room they were in. Once she came back to herself and her eyes dropped again to the floor, he raised his wand. “ _Accio_ dictionary.”

A huge, elaborately covered tome came flying at them and Lucius directed it to elegantly settle itself on the nearest table. “Sit,” he directed Hermione. She complied, but he did not miss the confused look on her face.

“I will give you a handful of words to look up. You will recite the definition that rings the truest for you. The one that defines what each word would mean between you and me.” He waited a moment and she nodded. “We will begin. Tell me the definition of the word promise,” he said softly.

She hesitated for only a moment before reaching for the book and opening it carefully. It took a couple minutes, but soon she was reading aloud. “Promise. Noun. A declaration or assurance that one will do a particular thing or that a particular thing will happen.”

“Trust.”

Again, she flipped through the book. “Trust. Noun. Firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone.”

He continued their interaction. “Obedience.”

“Compliance with an order, request, or law – or submission to another’s authority.”

“Control.”

“The power to restrain something, especially one’s own emotions or actions.”

“Abstinence.”

“The fact or practice of restraining oneself from indulging in something.”

“Consequence.”

“A result or effect of an action or condition.”

“Disappointment.”

“A feeling of sadness or displeasure caused by the nonfulfillment of one’s hopes or expectations.”

“Pride.”

“A feeling of deep pleasure or satisfaction as a result of the achievements, qualities or possessions of someone with whom one is closely associated.”

“Forgive.”

“To stop feeling angry or resentful towards someone for an offense, flaw, or mistake.”

“Good, that’s enough,” Lucius was doing his best to control his emotions. Hermione had become more and more distraught through the reading of each definition. He did feel good about the lesson she was learning, however, and he would not be striking her as hard as he had done for her last punishment. Hopefully he would meet her needs.

“Stand, take your knickers down, and bend over the table, love,” he said quietly, arranging his features to remain impassive when she started sniffling. “That’s a girl,” he told her when she was in position with her knickers around her knees. “Hold on to the other side of the table so you’re not tempted to reach back. Good girl. Your safewords are yellow and red, you will use them if you need to.”

“Yes, Master,” she whispered.

“I will strike you with my belt seven times,” he reminded her. “You do not need to count, but you must listen.”

If she was confused, she didn’t let on. “Yes, Master,” she said again.

Slowly, he undid his belt while purposely letting her hear each clank of the buckle before loudly pulling it through the loops on his trousers. He stepped back, lined up his first strike and started his speech, emphasizing each word he had made her look up the definition for.

“You made a _PROMISE_ ,” he struck on the word promise, then paused. Slowly he started speaking again, “that I _TRUSTED_.” The next blow landed with the significant word, perfectly underneath the first. She jerked a little but made no noise.

“It required _OBEDIENCE_ …” _CRACK_. A whimper from her. Pause.

“… _CONTROL_ …” _CRACK_. A gasp. Pause.

“…and _ABSTINENCE_.” _CRACK_. A small sob. Pause. He could hear her sniffles and see how tense she was holding herself. He had not hit her harder than a seven and would not be increasing the strength for the last strikes. He was filling a need – he had no desire to turn her into a blubbering mess. He continued.

“There are _CONSEQUENCES_ …” _CRACK_. Another soft cry. Pause. “…for your actions.”

He took a deep breath. “I am _DISAPPOINTED_ …” _CRACK_. “…that you felt this punishment was needed.”

Lucius dropped the belt when Hermione started to sob a little louder and pulled her up and into his arms. Burying his face into her unruly hair, he sat them into the nearest overstuffed chair. Once settled, he took her face between his hands and pulled back, so he could kiss away her tears as he continued his little speech. “I am _PROUD_ of how you handled not only this punishment, but what happened with Snape earlier in the week. I did not feel this was needed but fulfilled your request to meet _your_ needs and assuage _your_ guilt.” Her eyes were locked with his and when he told her of his pride her face crumpled, and she started to cry harder. “You are _FORGIVEN_ , Hermione. Now shhh.” He tucked her face against his chest and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

As Lucius rocked her gently side to side, the last vestiges of Hermione’s guilt poured out of her in the form of tears. He occasionally pressed gentle kisses into her curls that brought back the warm, cherished feeling he had left her with when he had bathed her on New Year’s.

Hermione had relaxed into him completely, her arms curled under herself as he cradled her into his chest. Her mind, free from her own self-loathing for the first time all week, whirled with what had just transpired. How had he known? How had he understood her so completely? How was it possible for him to take her apart piece by piece and have her come out the other side of a punishment feeling entirely whole again?

A deep sense of warmth and peace had settled over her like a warm blanket. The feel of his hands on her back and his lips in her hair had shifted. Instead of being comforting, they were slowly stroking her libido – nudging it just enough to ignite a low fire in her belly.

Slowly, Hermione pulled back from Lucius and met his eyes. “How do you do that?” she murmured. Seemingly of their own mind, her hands floated up to curl around his neck and her fingers caressed his jaw.

Lucius looked bemused as he answered her. “Do what, Hermione?”

“Know exactly what I need? Know how to set everything right again?”

He did not miss the way her voice had changed. She sounded a bit drugged, but there was an underlying resonance of desire and need. “If there is one thing we can say of the past eight weeks, it’s that you and I have come to know each other very well. Your sessions of late have been almost flawless, you respond to me perfectly every time. We are very compatible as a Dominant and submissive, pet.” He paused for a moment, distracted by the way her fingers were tracing patterns onto the skin of his neck and jaw and cheeks. “You could also say it’s my job to know what you need.”

She nodded, her gaze slowly moving from his eyes to his lips and back. Apparently, he wasn’t as in tune with her as he had just so pridefully described because he was very taken aback when she leaned forward and covered his mouth with her own while her hands slid up the back of his neck and tangled in his hair. His erection, which had faded as he had held her while she cried, came back full force when her tongue tapped insistently at his mouth.

The moment their tongues touched, Lucius knew there would be no stopping what was about to happen. He hadn’t the strength – not when she needed him so – even if it wouldn’t be appropriate. Even if it was the wrong move to make. She was seeking his comfort, his affection – his love. And he was ever so willing to give it to her, no matter the promises he had made to himself and to his friend.

Hermione shifted in his lap, so that she was straddling him in the chair. Her fingers moved quickly to the buttons of his silk dress shirt. As she unhooked each one, Lucius effortlessly undid his fly and rolled his hips, so he could push his pants and boxers over his bum to his knees where they fell with gravity’s assistance to his ankles.

It felt like her hands were everywhere – in his hair, gliding over the features of his face, caressing his neck, running over his chest. Her fingers tweaked his nipples before her palms smoothed a path up to his shoulders and down his arms. He stroked the satiny-smooth skin of her lower back, tracing the indentation of her spine before guiding her hips so her pussy slid deliciously over his prick.

He reached down to line himself up with her dewy entrance and slid up, in, and home. She settled down over the top of him and caught his eyes with her own. They were wide, full of unspoken emotion, and damp with tears. He feared his were as well and was terrified she’d see how naked and vulnerable he was to her.

When he raised his hips to move within her, her eyes slid shut at the same time her teeth caught her lower lip. One shoulder curled to her chin as her head fell back and a low, sweet mewl left her as she moved to meet him. Jesus fuck, she was beautiful.

“Mmm,” she hummed before tilting her head forward again to recapture his gaze. “Oh, gods,” she whispered, letting her forehead fall to his. “You feel incredible like this.”

Lucius gripped her hips gently and opened his mouth to speak – but no words came. There were no words. Her curls were all around them, the scent of lavender and vanilla was all he was breathing in. Lucius had never had her like this. The weeks between New Years and now had been filled with many rounds of heady and heated sex – but he hadn’t taken her slow since that night. He hadn’t taken her where she wasn’t tied or clamped or trapped somehow. He hadn’t taken her when he could kiss her at the same time. And he had _never_ let her be in control of their couplings.

As her mouth met his again, her tongue slid along his in a lazy, intimate, and penetrating kiss. He ignored the instincts telling him to take over. The one’s that told him to change the lovemaking into Dominance. Instead, he gave in to his needs for once. The need he hadn’t had met since Narcissa. His need to be taken, his need to be touched, his need to let go.

Against his better judgement, he let her keep control. And as she rolled her hips, moving them in a rhythm older than time itself, he understood why. He understood _exactly_ why he had not allowed this intimacy. Because in this very moment he realized that he didn’t just love Hermione Granger, he was _in_ love with her. Completely. Deeply. Irrevocably. And that was a very, very bad thing.

* * *

**February 19 th  
10:22 PM**

Master,

I’ve taken my assignment to heart, and while I didn’t intentionally write you a book I find I tend to be a bit wordy when I write essays. Just ask Professor Snape, he can vouch for me.

I didn’t feel that what happened between Severus and me the Saturday before last was wrong, per say. What I hated about it what the feeling that I should keep it from you because I was worried you’d be upset or – worse – disappointed. Then when I did keep it from you, my guilt for not trusting you (and myself) got the better of me. This all, of course, accumulated into the scene we had at the Manor Sunday evening.

Your exercise followed by the punishment I requested helped drive home that I need to trust my Master, yes, but above all I need to trust myself. Thank you for being the incredible man that you are – you will be why I succeed in this world and in my next relationship. Please know that.

As for moving things to the next step with Severus. I have to admit I’m hesitant. We’ve been dating now for a little over seven weeks. Could we use more time…? Maybe. And in the same breath, perhaps taking baby steps and not just jumping right into a heavy BDSM relationship with him the moment you have released me feels like the safer and more logical way to go.

I know you’re unsure of how much time we have left, and I wish to assure you that I am in no rush to end our contract. I will never, ever regret this time I’ve had with you. It’s been utter perfection. I think that you taking the time to help Severus and I control our overt and sometimes bewildering desire for each other by setting limits will help us grow as a couple. Having restrictions on how fast we can move makes us sit back and take our time. We are both logical and bright individuals, but somehow when we were thrown together at first, we tended to make terrible decisions and acted without thinking.

Since we’ve been forced to back down and think about the consequences of said actions, we have finally gotten to know each other on a deeper level. We’ve found that we both enjoy books and research. We like a lot of the same movies and enjoy similar taste in some of music choices. We like to cook and are both into physical fitness.

We enjoy intellectual conversation and I have yet to be bored when I am with him. When we are quiet, we are content to just be with each other (unless that spark that follows us around is suddenly ignited).

I feel what Severus and I have built these last weeks is a really great foundation. So ultimately…do I feel like we’re ready to take our physical relationship up a step? Yes, I believe so – but only if you feel I am ready for this step. I trust your judgement above mine in this situation. Whatever you decide, I will comply with happily.

Thank you again for being the incredible man you are.  
  
Love,  
Hermione


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six

* * *

Looking at her watch, Hermione was stunned it was already eleven-thirty. Where had the morning gone? Severus would be arriving in thirty minutes for their lunch date.

With a wave of her wand, a stack of files hovered to the cabinet behind her desk and started sorting themselves as her ears perked at the sound of Marla's voice. "I'll just see if she's available, Mr. Malfoy."

 _Lucius? Is here?_ Her mind raced. Had he messaged her in her journal and she missed it?

Her door cracked, and her assistant let out a sigh as she peeked in. "Sorry to disturb, Hermione. Lucius Malfoy is here. He doesn't have an appointment. Should I have him make one and leave?"

Hermione had to stifle a laugh. Yeah, _that_ would go over well. "Uh, no. It's ok, Marla. Lucius is a potential client. Show him right in." Hermione stood and smoothed out her skirt as she walked around her desk to greet him.

Lucius Malfoy the billionaire business executive was very different from Lucius Malfoy the Dominant, or even Lucius Malfoy the Sunday night best friend. When he walked into her office with his fine robes and signature cane, he looked every bit the intimidating form Hermione had remembered from her youth. She greeted him with the prim salutation that seemed to match his entrance. "Mr. Malfoy, a pleasure to see you."

His tone was reserved, but his eyes were playful. "Miss Granger, the pleasure is all mine."

As soon as Marla closed the door behind herself, Hermione walked up to him and pushed up on her toes to kiss his cheek. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? I didn't miss a journal entry from you, did I?"

"No, my dear. This is an impromptu visit. However, it's a necessary one I feel." Hemione would have been concerned something was wrong if not for the small grin on his face. "You have lunch with Severus today, yes?"

Hermione couldn't disguise her confusion. "Yes, he's due shortly."

"Well, in light of the…struggles you two have been experiencing and in the interest of marking another item off your diminishing list of haven't done's, I have brought something I would like you to wear today. Something that will hopefully make thing less…complicated for the two of you."

"Oh, Merlin. Why am I nervous?" Her hand moved to cover her mouth as Lucius pulled something out of his pocket. The gold metal object reflected lamp light as he dangled it in front of her.

His expression inscrutable, he said matter-of-factly, "This, my dear, is a chastity belt."

Hermione's jaw fell as her eyes shot up to Lucius' _. Is he joking?_ "Really? You're asking me to wear a _chastity_ belt?"

"Hmm, I think _asking_ is too light a term. I would say, _requiring_ is more appropriate. I realize it's not a Wednesday or Friday evening, but I'm insisting all the same. Should you choose to refuse, as you certainly can, you will find your next training session much less enjoyable than perhaps it could be."

"Oh, Lucius. Blackmail? Really?" The glint in her eyes made it clear she was teasing. "How does that thing work anyway?" She was looking at it as if the object itself had hurled insults at her.

"It's perfectly simple. Remove your knickers and slip this on instead. It has a little lock that only I know the charm for. I will lock it before your date and unlock it after. Once it's locked, it cannot be physically removed by anyone but myself. Your hidden delights will be protected from touch."

Hermione stared at it for a moment as the practicality of such a thing began to take hold. "And when will I be seeing you again to have the blasted thing charmed off? And what if I have to use the loo?"

"It's charmed to facilitate personal hygiene and loo breaks."

Hermione watched him for a minute, waiting for him to laugh and declare it all a joke. When she understood and accepted this was for real she pondered his words. "It's charmed for personal hygiene. Lovely. That makes me feel _so_ much better. Who thinks up this stuff? Honestly!"

His eyebrow cocked at her sarcasm. He held the offending garment out to her and she took it begrudgingly. She looked from the belt to him and found his expression serious. "Oh, fine. I'll be right back."

She stepped into the private bath off her office and kicked her heels away before lifting her skirt and sliding down her panties. She realized it was unnecessary to have left his presence; the man knew her anatomy better than she did, after all. But it _was_ her office and hardly an appropriate place to… _Hermione don't you finish that thought!_ She rolled her eyes. _As if there is an appropriate place for such a thing!_

She sighed heavily as she assessed her reflection. While the belt looked like and had the strength of metal, the device actually felt quite light. It fit like a thong and covered about as much; laying over her mons and then wrapping around the tops of her hips where it came around the back into a thin scrap of metal between her bum cheeks. A small lock dangled from the front.

Slipping her shoes back on, she let her skirt fall back into place. She held her panties in her hand as she walked back into her office and approached her purse. Lucius was now sitting in one of the chairs facing her desk with a very proud look on his face.

"No need to look like the cat that ate the canary."

He held his hand out as he eyed the panties in her hand. "I'll take those, if you please." She rolled her eyes as she handed them to him and he gave her a sharp look. "Don't think I can't toss you over my knee this instant, Miss Granger. Mind yourself."

She was about to respond and remind him she was not currently submitting, when there was a knock at her office door. Marla opened it and spoke softly. "Mr. Snape is here. Shall I have him wait?"

"That's not necessary. He can come in now."

Snape strolled in instantly and looked back at Marla, watching as she closed the door. His eyes moved back to Hermione and then to the unexpected third person sitting in front of her desk. Hermione felt her heart flutter when she noticed the tea roses. He had brought her a small bouquet for every date since their first.

She promptly stepped over to him, taking the offered yellow flowers and tilting up to kiss his cheek. Having none of that, Snape's arms wrapped around her and held her close, his mouth moving to hers and planting several light kisses on her soft lips. When he gently released her, she slowly opened her eyes as she fought a blush from being kissed so sweetly. Being kissed so sweetly by Snape in front of another – in front of Lucius no less. She fought a slight twinge of discomfort as unwelcome thoughts sped through her. A pervasive feeling of guilt, as though she were betraying the other man in the room. _He's your friend and part time Master, Hermione. Not your lover!_ Another voice deep within, one that was quiet most of the time, the one that she hated, and the one that some might call her conscience reminded her, _That's not what you told him with your body in the library._ Enough! Regaining her senses, she explained, "Lucius just stopped by to…" She looked back at her Master. "Do I tell him?"

Lucius was frozen. He'd literally felt his heart constrict when Snape kissed her. He had known (of course he had known) but he had not seen and seeing was completely suffocating.

Suddenly realizing she was watching him with a look that was becoming concerned, Lucius pulled his thoughts away from his own pain and smiled reassuringly. "Sorry, my mind wandered for a moment." He shrugged as he answered her question. "It's your date. It's your choice, Doll."

Severus who had been more focused on his witch than on his friend, had missed Lucius' distraction. Hearing Lucius' response, he looked from his friend back to his girl. "Tell me what?"

Hermione opened her mouth and then snapped it shut, finding herself unable to say the words.

Noticing her loss of speech, Lucius added, "Perhaps you could simply show him?"

Hermione felt frustration instantly flare within. She stomped to her desk as she snapped, "This is my place of work! I have no desire to lift my skirt and show my _date_ the chastity belt my Master is making me wear! I mean…seriously!"

Severus grinned and looked at Lucius who was trying to contain his chuckle. "Chastity belt? Oh Lucius, you've outdone yourself." Severus' gaze moved to Hermione who was stuffing items from her desk drawer into her purse as she muttered under her breath. "C'mon, Hermione. Pretty please? Show me."

She didn't respond but simply stared at her desk. _Why am I so bothered by this?_

Lucius watched Hermione closely for a moment. He could see her frustration was genuine and he thought he knew why. He spoke warmly. "Doll, please come here." She closed her eyes for a second and let out a slow, calming breath before setting her purse gently on her desk. Resignedly, she walked around to Lucius and stood in front of him, her brown eyes meeting his steel grey. "Do you truly not want to show us or is it merely you are feeling the need to be Dominated and told you have to?"

It only took her a second of contemplation. His question solved the puzzle she was trying to decipher. She felt a flush of relief as the tension oozed out of her. Gods, this man understood her. "I need you to…"

He did not wait for her to finish her sentence. "I understand, pet. You're my good girl. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"I need to place the locking charm on your belt and require you to lift your skirt." He looked at Snape who was watching the exchange quietly. "Severus, come stand behind me so you can see." Snape stepped behind Lucius' chair. Once the dark man was behind him, Lucius spoke firmly to Hermione. "Now we'll have no more cheek. Lift your skirt and hold it up so that I can place the charm and we can get a look at it."

Hermione bunched the maxi skirt into her fists and lifted it, displaying the golden chastity belt. Both wizard's eyes moved to the apex of her thighs. Lucius tapped his wand on the lock and whispered an enchantment under his breath that neither Hermione or Severus could decipher.

"Lucius, you're slipping. Wherever is the Malfoy crest?"

Ignoring his friend's taunt, Lucius maintained his focus on his submissive. "Thank you, my dear. You may release your skirt. Do you require anything else from me before I relinquish control?"

"No, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Then you are released."

Hermione let out a breath and walked back around her desk.

Both wizards watched her, each lost in what they took away from the preceding exchange. Lucius recognized he had never had a submissive he felt he understood as well as he did Hermione, while Severus recognized the connection his witch shared with his best friend. Lucius was obviously good with her and understood her and Severus felt an uncomfortable twinge that he would fail where Lucius had succeeded.

Both men were pulled from their thoughts when Hermione said, "Lucius, why don't you join us for lunch?" When neither wizard said anything, she laughed as she put the tea roses in a vase. "What…you can spank me at the same time with riding crops, but the three of us can't sit down for a meal together?"

Lucius and Severus looked at each other. "Hmm, that sounded like a challenge, Lucius."

Lucius smiled with a shrug. "I have no lunch plans. I'd be happy to join you two."

Hermione put her hands on her hips. "Okay, but I'm setting some rules. No…shenanigans. This is lunch – no Dominants allowed! I just want to go out and have a nice meal with my two favorite men. Agreed?"

Lucius teased. "Now Doll, that was completely uncalled for. You act as though we are cavemen."

Hermione shook her head with a light laugh. "No, you are both perfect gentlemen and lovely dining companions one on one. It's the group dynamic that has me concerned. I do not wish to be ganged up on!"

"Well, there goes dessert," Snape deadpanned.

She looked at him and, seeing his twinkle, responded, "And to think I used to think you had no sense of humor."

Lucius stood and smirked at his friend. "Did you catch that, Sev? She just called us her two favorite men."

"Hmmm, I wouldn't be too flattered, Lucius…considering whom we likely replaced."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know why, but I still think of them as boys. Which they are not. They are grown men and I love them like brothers." As she picked up her purse, she added with utter sincerity, "They're my family."

Both wizards fought their own internal battles with her words. Lucius wanted her to consider _him_ her family as well and had to fight the urge to pull her into his arms and tell her as much. Severus saw the two boys as an obstacle. They would likely frown upon her relationship with him. How long would it take them to convince her that he was the wrong man for her? _Not very._ Of that, he was quite certain.

Both men were pulled from their musings when she walked towards the door. Looking back over her shoulder. "Are you two coming or not?" she chided.

When they arrived at _The Fin & Tail_ as a party of three instead of a party of two, they found the restaurant packed and busy. The hostess insisted it wasn't a problem because they would merely add a chair and turn the reserved two-top into a three. But when they were led to their table, Hermione wondered whose lap she would have to sit on as the table was tiny at best. The hostess pulled a third chair over as a waiter arrived with a third place-setting. Being the smallest, Hermione wedged herself into the seat in the corner and then the wizards took their own seats on either side. Their knees and elbows jostled for room as glasses of sparkling water were placed before them.

"Well, this is cozy," Hermione joked.

"Indeed," added Snape.

"I fear my inclusion has left the seating lacking," Lucius said quietly.

"But not the company, Lucius," Hermione beamed. "We are happy you could join us. Aren't we, Severus?"

"Indeed," he replied once again as he perused the menu.

Lucius chuckled at his friend's less than enthusiastic confirmation but knew better than to take offense. If Snape had not wanted him to join them, he would have made it known.

Tossing the menu down, Snape looked towards the bustling wait staff. "We need wine."

"Yes, a Châteauneuf-du-Pape and a **Savennières** perhaps," Lucius added nonchalantly.

Hermione spotted the wine menu next to the specials menu on the center of the table. Picking it up, she looked it over. "See to me? Wine is wine. There's red and there's white, and there's fizzy and there's flat. If it's made in France or Italy that's a plus and then, of course, if it has a cute animal on the label that's always a good sign."

Both wizards turned to her with matching expressionless faces. It was a Slytherin thing; a flat expression that actually screamed _'you are a gnat beneath my shoe_.' "Oh, don't look at me like that," she countered with a dismissive wave of her hand and a laugh. "You Slytherin's and your Jedi mind tricks."

Snape cocked an onyx brow and plucked the menu out of her hand. "Clearly, you won't be selecting the vintages." As he looked over the menu he smiled lightly. "Hmm, are you a Star Wars fan, Hermione? You do take similarities to a lead character, princess."

"As do you, Darth," she shot back quickly causing him to snort back a laugh.

"What am I missing?" Lucius asked.

"Not a thing, Jabba," Snape responded without looking away from the menu.

Hermione laughed loudly and reached out to take Lucius' hand. "Ignore him, Lucius."

Snape added with a chortle, "Well, he's got you on a leash, hasn't he?"

She rolled her eyes as she released Lucius' fingers. "It's just a muggle movie. You aren't missing much."

"Back to a more important topic," Lucius continued. "You really should learn about wines, Doll. Especially as you are a prominent lawyer. A prominent lawyer who may at times represent The Dungeon, and therefore us." He looked at Snape and then back to her. "You may need to entertain or dine with someone whom you wish to impress and…"

Hermione shook her head, breaking him off. "Lucius, you're wasting your breath. If I ever find myself resorting to impressing someone with my knowledge of wine instead of my knowledge of the law, well then I shouldn't be practicing anyway."

Snape laughed. "She's got you there, Lucius." Hermione felt a hand on her right knee under the table and smiled at her dark-haired wizard.

Just then a very pretty waitress approached their table and introduced herself as Michelle. She had dark eyes and hair as well as sun-kissed Mediterranean skin. She was wearing a tight black V-neck tee which accentuated a large bust and a small waist. Hermione was surprised by her own jealousy when she noticed the blond wizard casually checking the waitress out. She felt heat rise into her face when the chesty wench flipped her hair and shot Lucius a small smile as she pulled her notepad from the waistline of her skirt.

Hermione took comfort when Snape appeared to be completely immune to the woman's charms. He ordered two bottles of wine for the table as well as a couple of appetizers. Seeing as she didn't have any appointments that afternoon and could take her time, Hermione held no objections to what was surely going to be a long lunch. She adored the wizards sitting with her…one could truthfully say she loved one and was in love with the other. This was the first time she had spent with the them together outside of The Dungeon and she was enjoying herself immensely.

The wine was delivered, and they started with the chenin-blanc. Hermione had to admit it was delicious, yet she found the bottle lacking. "I'm just saying, it's not a bottle I would have chosen. There is nothing on this label that draws attention."

Snape leaned back in his chair and asked knowingly, "So do you judge a book by its cover? Because with your reasoning, unless a book has a picture of a bunny on the front, you wouldn't bother reading it."

Lucius laughed at the lost look on Hermione's face. "Ah, and there you have it. Our point is proven, my dear." He filled her almost empty glass and then topped off his and Snape's. Their exchange then plowed into a discussion of books and interesting covers that might have brought more sales.

By the time the appetizers were delivered, Hermione was lightly buzzed and thoroughly enjoying herself. The conversation was flowing easily, and the laughter was abundant. The oysters were chilled and delicious, and the charred octopus had surprised her with how good it was. The wine continued to flow and when their entrees were delivered, the second bottle was half empty. Her scallops over parmesan risotto practically melted in her mouth and she insisted each wizard have a taste, proceeding to feed them from her own fork. Snape fed her a bite of his seared Chilean Sea Bass and leaned forward to kiss the black bean garlic sauce that had dribbled onto her chin. Lucius fed her a bit of his crab cakes that were smothered with a Cajun-Lobster cream sauce which made her eyes roll with delight. She was full to bursting when she finally put down her fork, leaving at least half of her plate untouched.

She tossed her napkin down and looked around. "I wonder where the loo is." In order to get out of her seat, Lucius had to stand so she could shimmy out of the cramped spot. As she brushed past him, his eyes twinkled as he patted her behind covertly. "Let me know if you have any issues."

Her face fell instantly. "Merlin, I completely forgot! I can't believe this."

She shot a look back at Snape when she heard his rich chuckle. She couldn't help the lecturing reproof that followed. "You know it's your fault as well that I have to wear this. You have no room to laugh. I don't see you wearing one."

Snape threw his hands up in defeat. "I had nothing to do with this little exercise, princess."

Her eyes shot back to Lucius' and she gave him a playful, reproachful look. "This thing better not prove to be a problem."

The wizards watched her retreating form and Lucius sat back in his chair while swallowing down the last of his wine.

"I have to give it you, Lucius. Very clever and somewhat appropriate, although entirely unnecessary."

Lucius could not agree less, although not for the reason Severus was thinking. It was not a matter of trust, it was Hermione's reaction to the couple's almost loss of control that Lucius was concerned with. It had led to a profound disappointment within herself followed by a heartbreaking confession and a need for a punishment that Lucius felt was neither deserved nor necessary. If wearing a chastity belt, barbaric though it may be, would prevent her feeling herself at risk for such a loss of control and, in turn, prevent the self-loathing aftermath – then it was worth it.

He thought more of that night in the library. Lucius was not a blind man, he knew Hermione cared deeply for him. Perhaps he also trusted on some level that she truly did love him. For it was love they had made that night…and _she_ had initiated it. It wasn't the same love he harbored for her, however.

Realizing he had not responded, Lucius turned to his friend and answered simply, "Not so unnecessary, actually. This will prevent her need to humble herself and seek punishment after her encounters with you, my friend. Besides, it was something else I could mark off her list."

Snape studied his blond friend, his senses more alert. "She sought out punishment?"

Lucius sighed. "Of course she did, and it should not have surprised me."

Snape sipped his wine. He didn't like his witch feeling guilty about anything they did together. He may be inexperienced in the world of dating, but even he knew that such feelings were not healthy and were not the best way to embark on a relationship. Then again, this was a highly unusual situation the three of them shared. He couldn't help but to wonder if it was becoming toxic to the future he hoped for. "Well, perhaps her training will be coming to an end soon? Or perhaps those guilt provoking restrictions will be lifted?"

Lucius could see the mass of curls heading back towards their table. He stood as he responded quietly, "Not before it's time, Severus. Not before it's time."

The three of them enjoyed the walk back to her office. They took a longer route, finding the cool air and the stroll helped to arouse them from their post lunch lull. The buzz from the wine had passed and the tiredness had started to take over, leaving Hermione's eyelids heavy and her ambition to get back to work waning. The walk was helping, though, and she felt herself slowly regaining her focus on the work she needed to accomplish that afternoon. "You know, we never did discuss the specifics of what you want me to do for The Dungeon. While business law isn't my specialty, I do have basic knowledge as well as a particular colleague whom could be a great resource for me. I've actually been considering bringing her on as an associate in my firm."

"I thought you enjoyed being a small firm with only a handful of paralegals and minimal staff?" Lucius asked.

"Well, I do. But the truth is, I'm having to turn away a lot of work because I just can't do it all. Having another lawyer on staff would open the doors to many more cases. Bringing on an associate like Jonquil, who has worked in community law but specializes in business law, would be a tremendous help. I haven't even approached her yet, though. So, it's really just an idea trying to take root. It's a lot to think about and she may not be interested."

"Well, Luc. Let's sit down and map out what we need. Perhaps we can have a proposal ironed out in a month or so's time," Snape suggested. Lucius and Hermione were voicing their approval of that plan as they entered the lobby of her firm and headed for her office.

All three paused their steps as Marla rose from her desk, her face grave. "Hermione, I have some news I feel you should know," the woman said cautiously as she looked nervously from the dark-haired wizard to the light.

"What?" Hermione asked, suddenly feeling a slight panic. Marla looked nervous and possible causes started to race through Hermione's head. "Is something wrong?"

"Mr. Potter floo'd a little while ago to tell you himself, but of course you were out. It's Dolohov, he escaped from Azkaban this morning."

Hermione felt as if all the wind had been knocked out of her and her knees began to feel weak. Strong arms were around her instantly as Snape guided her into her office. Her hand immediately went to her chest, to the spot where the scar that had held residence for many years had only recently been completely cured and removed.

"How?" she asked breathlessly as she sat in her chair. Snape was close and kept a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"They don't know yet. His cell was discovered empty, but they believe one of the younger and newer guards may be involved. Harry said he would be back when he knew more." After a pause she asked, "Can I get you anything? Tea perhaps?"

When Hermione didn't answer, Snape responded for her. "I think that would be helpful."

Snape could see her fear and felt the need to reassure her. "Hermione, Dolohov has probably already left the country by now. He is very recognizable and well known and will not likely wish to be re-apprehended merely to seek revenge on you."

She shook her head. "I'm the reason he was sentenced to life in Azkaban, Severus. My testimony."

"And countless others who were at the ministry that day, Hermione. Including the testimony of Lucius." Severus looked at the blond in question, surprised to see the wizard standing in the corner, his face blank.

Lucius felt positively ill. The lunch they had shared sat like lead in his stomach as the memory of that day in the Department of Mysteries took hold.

The memory of his involvement.

The memory of her body laying small and seemingly lifeless.

The memory of his unfathomable inaction, despite the concern he felt for all the children that day.

It had been that moment he had realized how truly fucked up his allegiance had been and wished for nothing more than to take it all back. Later that night, as he sat in his cell in the dreaded prison, he made his decision. If he were ever released, he would not support the monster that was Voldemort ever again. He would find a way to do what was right. No blood allegiance was worth death and torture. It was not what he had signed up for and it had been a rude and painful awakening. Blood purity had been merely an excuse, a vessel for prejudice and unnecessary hate. He'd made a promise then and there that he would change his ways and become a better man if God would allow it.

Yet right now, in this office and at this moment, all he felt was guilt. Incredible, all-encompassing guilt as well as the knowledge that he should not be here. She would not want him anywhere near her at this moment and perhaps never again. "I…I should leave," he whispered. He watched as she looked up at him and something seemed to click. There it was. Recollection. He could see it in her eyes. Her face became anguished and Lucius prepared himself when she rushed towards him. He couldn't blame her for attacking him. He would let the hits come and would not push her away.

He felt as though the world might swallow him whole when instead of pounding fists greeting his chest, she buried her face into it instead. She let out a sob as she wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him tightly.

Lucius' whispered words caused her to move her gaze to him. He was standing as far away as possible from her with a pained look on his face. And she knew, she knew in that moment what he was thinking. Without further thought, she jumped out of her chair and rushed to him. When his arms tentatively wrapped around her in return she felt safe and knew that everything would be okay.

He rested his cheek on her head. "Doll, I'm so sorry. I've said it before and I'll say it until my dying breath how wrong I was and how sorry I am."

She peeked up at him, her eyes puffy and her cheeks wet. "You don't need to say those words to me ever again, Lucius. You are not that man and I don't believe that you ever actually were." Pressing up, she kissed his cheek before pushing away from him and wiping her eyes.

She looked back at Snape and found his eyes brooding and a touch forlorn. She moved back towards him and snuggled into his side as he wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. She was beginning to realize Snape could easily become insecure and she might need to be cautious of her treatment of Lucius in front of him, at least when she was not submitting.

Lucius swallowed his own discomfort at their affection as he cautiously crossed the room towards them and sat on the edge of her desk. "While I agree that Dolohov has likely no intention of coming after you, Doll, I think it would be wise for you take certain precautions. Use your floo as much as possible and avoid leaving yourself exposed and alone until he has been apprehended." He looked up at Snape. "You agree?"

"Unequivocally. There is no need to put yourself at unnecessary risk, Hermione."

Lucius stood. "Good, then we are all in agreement. You will not be outside alone for the time being."

"Uh, excuse me? I haven't agreed to anything and I would like to point out that I am a grown woman and can take care of myself. I was upset because I was shocked and taken by surprise. I'm not afraid of Dolohov. I'm not that little girl anymore."

"Hermione," Severus cautioned. "You are not a little girl anymore, but you are also out of practice with your dueling and it would be foolish to be caught off guard. I am certain you can get around just fine via the floo network and when you can't, Lucius or myself or one of your many friends will certainly escort you where you need to go. Something tells me Potter will be in full agreement."

Letting out a huff, she put her foot down. "No. I'm sorry, but I do not agree to be dictated to and ordered around. I can take care of myself and make my own choices. If I need assistance or in any way feel unsafe I will certainly get help."

Lucius and Severus looked at each other knowingly. "Miss Granger, might I remind you that I am your contracted Master and – "

"No, that won't work this time, Lucius. I will floo if you require it when I am submitting and for our Sunday dinners but that is all." She looked back at Severus and seeing his mouth open and about to speak, she headed him off at the pass. "And you have _no_ say. At _any_ time."

The look of barely concealed fury accompanied with a gaping mouth was quickly replaced with a determined glare and words spoken slowly and coolly. "I may not have control over your person, but do not think for an instant that I will allow you to put yourself at risk. Do. Not. Try. Me."

Hermione swallowed, and Lucius gave Severus an approving nod, clearly feeling Severus had driven the point home.

Hermione rubbed her eyes wearily. "Listen, I understand and appreciate your concern," she looked from one to the other, "but I'll be fine. I'll ask Harry and Ron to duel with me and brush up my reflexes. That's a good idea anyway. However, I enjoy running in the mornings and I don't want to give that up. I also go to the park and read by the lake sometimes. I'm not giving that up either."

"I'll run with you," Severus said quickly. "I enjoy running as well and it will be a way we can spend time together despite our busy schedules."

Lucius nodded and added, "As far as enjoying the park, you'll find no park finer than my estate. There are horses, a lake, green pastures, and a swimming pool. Whenever you desire to be outside, you have the Malfoy estate at your disposal, Hermione."

Hermione couldn't help the swell of her heart and the silly muscle behind her breastbone must have skipped at least two beats when Severus said he would run with her. She took Severus' hand and looked up at him sweetly. "Of course, I would love for you to run with me Severus." She looked warmly at Lucius as she took his hand in her other. "I would very much enjoy use of the Estate." Releasing both their hands, she stepped away, creating a little distance from the overbearing men. "However, I will not agree to never being out and about alone. I won't do it, so don't ask!" Both wizards realized this was a battle to be continued another day and dropped it.

Hermione cleared her throat and straightened out her skirt. "Well, then. The day is getting late and I have work to finish." She looked at Lucius. "If you wouldn't mind releasing me from the confines of my harness? I think my virtue is safe for the rest of the day."

* * *

Lucius wondered if Hermione thought this felt like a date. It felt like a date to him, which was uncharacteristically making his palms sweat and his throat dry. Besides that, he had not intended this to be a date, it wasn't a date. So why did it feel like one? He had not met a woman he wanted to date since Narcissa's death. Fuck? Dominate? Yes. Date? No.

Because of this, business functions had been attended stag for the last nine years, but tonight he had requested Hermione's company due to the fact it was a training night and he enjoyed her company so. She had hesitated for only a moment before telling him that she would be happy to attend with him. They had decided to tell people she was a business acquaintance, which had raised a few eyebrows, but most accepted it well enough. Anyone who was anyone knew who Hermione Granger was and what she did for a living. Believing her tied to Malfoy Enterprises was not a far stretch.

He looked at his non-date as she spoke animatedly with who he gathered to be a rival on the Wizengamot floor, though one would never tell. She laughed and smiled with him and Lucius felt a twinge of jealousy when she casually touched his arm before her hands were off again, gracefully moving through the air while she spoke passionately.

As always, the witch looked stunning tonight. Her hair was immaculately tamed into a French twist, showing off her delicate ears and slender neck. The dress she had chosen was made of grey chiffon that flowed like water to just below her knees and moved elegantly when she did. It had a halter neck line with a long keyhole cut out that accentuated cleavage and an empire waste that made her already small form look impossibly tiny. She coupled it with a pair of strappy silver stilettos and a glitter encrusted clutch. Her collar was a simple choker of diamonds that set just above the circular neckline of her dress and she had rummaged up some crystal drop earrings and a matching bracelet.

No matter how tiny she looked as she flitted alongside him while they made small talk with other guests, her presence was anything but small. She attracted more attention than Lucius was used to, and he found himself almost resentful that he had to compete for her time. He had asked her to accompany him tonight simply because he was tired of attending these ruddy functions alone and here he was standing to the side of conversation after conversation that focused solely on the witch on his arm. He had even been shunted aside once as someone eagerly rushed in to talk with her.

Hermione, on the other hand, was handling herself admirably in this mostly rich pure-blooded crowd. While many of the sacred twenty-eight families were officially as easy going as Draco and himself these days, there were still some die-hards hanging on for dear life. Lucius could spot them easily with how they glared at her through the mass of people.

The signal came that it was time for dinner to start, so Lucius pulled Hermione's arm through his and they set off to find their table. He was not the least bit offended or surprised to find they had been tucked with some not-so-well known small business called Cicely's Special Events in a remote corner of the ballroom. Tadore Shafiq and his wife, Eknora, were staunch supports of pure blood society and had likely been non-too-pleased with Lucius when he had RSVP'd with Hermione Granger written in the guest slot.

The joke was on the Shafiq's, however, because the elderly couple with their daughter and son-in-law, whom the business had been passed on to, were very kind and pleasant to talk with. They spent a large portion of the dinner telling Lucius and Hermione about a somewhat scandalous upcoming French betrothal banquet they were planning between a triad (which had made Hermione's eyebrows shoot to the ceiling). This particular triad was the fourth in France in the last decade, as the wizarding tradition had dropped out of practice in the late nineteenth century but was now making a slow, but steady comeback. The story was quickly followed with laughter about a couple who was having a wedding ceremony for their mated Bichon Frises, which Lucius found incredulously stupid and Hermione hysterical.

When dinner was over, the rest of the people in their party moved back to the dance floor for more mingling and schmoozing while the band was setting up. Lucius and Hermione, however, were perfectly content to stay in their own little corner of the world and visit. Neither of them had any need to make connections this night. Lucius had only agreed to attend out of propriety.

They made small talk about their week since they'd seen each other Sunday and he was pleased, though taken aback when she moved her chair closer to his, so she could rest against his side somewhat. He raised his eyebrows and smirked. That would potentially get people talking…maybe he should warn her. Then her hand slid on his thigh to rest just above his knee and he thought… _what the hell. Enjoy the evening._

He knew that Hermione was a toucher. She touched perfect strangers after a few minutes of conversation if she felt it was warranted. He snorted mentally. She was the first witch in almost thirty years to get him to amend his bloody rules of engagement while at the club. He admired a woman who knew how to get what she wanted, and he was beginning to admire this witch above and beyond all others. After her heroic act of saving his choking club member with some Muggle remedy, he'd had to consent to the fact that there were times touch should be allowed without permission. After that little incident, he had agreed for her to touch Etan, Jonathan, and Draco in non-sexual manners and any women, as well as permission to assist in any emergent situation. She had been delighted; he, on the other hand, had gotten a very light-hearted teasing session from Snape to which he had warned the younger man, _"You just wait and see, Snape. She'll rock your boat, as well. Mark my words."_

"Lucius?" she asked softly while they people watched. Being tucked back into the corner meant no one was paying them any mind as dishes and tables were magically cleared around them.

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something personal?"

"Sure, pet."

She tilted her head up briefly to give him a tender smile. "All this time it's been about my limits and my desires and my needs. What about yours?"

Lucius felt his heart flutter maddingly before he answered her. "You meet my needs and desires all the time, Hermione."

"Mm." There was a bump and a shift as she reached for her clutch. He watched her as she pulled out a Chapstick and applied it before tucking the bag away. "Tell me – what's your favorite kind of scene? What do you like to do the most?"

Lucius couldn't help himself, he snorted. His plan was working better than he had thought it would. She looked up him with confusion on her face. "What's so funny?

"What prompted this line of questioning?" He asked but was pretty sure he knew why with the way the poor girl was squirming in her chair. Her body was primed for his presence on Wednesday and Friday nights. It didn't surprise him the conversation was taking a sexual twist.

"Oh, I don't know." She shrugged. "Just making conversation."

"Okay, I'll indulge you," he said. "I like risky situations. Situations where there's a chance I might get caught by someone who would be highly offended. Outdoor sex, public sex, etcetera. It's especially intoxicating if it were to be in a situation where I am known."

"So…not the heavy BDSM stuff? The whipping and caning? The suspension and sadism?" She sounded truly surprised.

"Don't misunderstand, pet." He purposely lowered his voice and let his breath caress over her ear – well, if she wanted to talk about stuff that would make him get hard, he would return the favor. Granted, she really was walking right into his trap. "I do like all those things, but you asked for my favorite and risk of getting caught leaves me quite heady."

"Hmm, I guess I can understand that," she agreed. "It's kind of like me with exhibitionism. All though I'd never be able to do that outside of the club setting."

They were quiet for a few minutes and Hermione's mind raced. She had been surprised and a bit disappointed to be missing their session tonight. Even though her orgasm denial and control phase were over, she still very much looked forward to and had even begun to need the release their sessions gave to her. It didn't help that he had insisted she go knickerless and wear her plug for their evening. She was a right mess and was pretty sure he knew it.

Above her, Lucius had started to drawl about people they were watching as if to introduce her without the tediousness of having to share pleasantries with the stuffy crowd. As he did, her mind wandered to where she was only half listening. Then inspiration struck. Who said she had to give up her session tonight? They could do both! She sat up and away from him quickly before turning and smirking playfully up at him.

Lucius broke off midsentence and his eyebrows shot up at the sinfully wicked way she was looking at him. His libido roared to life and his cock (which had been at half-mast with her presence and conversation, not to mention what he knew her to be wearing – or not wearing – under her skirt) slowly started to rise to attention before she had even spoke. The look in her eyes screamed sex and desire and he had to force himself not to laugh. Hook, line, and sinker…ah, she was learning so very well. It probably helped that apparently his little witch was horny tonight, though he was sure that was facilitated by her plug. He watched as Hermione scanned the room quickly before turning one more heated look up at him. Then she did surprise him…by bloody fucking disappeared under the table cloth.

"What are you doing?" he hissed in half-hearted protest as her small hands made quick work of his trouser buttons and belt. His dress robes had been discarded over the back of the chair, but he quickly moved to put them on to hide her better. He had anticipated she ask him to accompany her to another room, a shadowed alcove, but to dive right under the table and take out his prick? Merlin's balls – no one could deny that the witch had guts!

"Taking care of you for once," she murmured back, her tone low and sultry. "Scoot your chair further under the table and let me suck your cock, Master."

Lucius closed his eyes, after that statement – not to mention where they were – there was no stopping the way his cocked sprang to full and eager attention. It was so insistent he was surprised it didn't punch her in the face.

"Oh my," he heard her breathe, "you really do like this, don't you sir?" Her mouth was on him then and he quickly schooled his features into a mask of bored nonchalance even as his heartrate skyrocketed. Bloody fuck, she had gotten so good at giving him head just how he liked it. _And her gag reflex has gotten better_ , his mind whirled as she bottomed his throbbing prick out deep in her throat. One of his hands made his way to cup the back of her neck. He could not touch her hair, or it would become a mess that she wouldn't be able to explain away.

"I don't think you've ever been this hard before, sir," her voice met his ears, but just barely, "and that's saying something. I can see all your veins even down here in the dark. Fuck, this is hot, I'm dripping right now."

 _Merlin's saggy pants!_ Dirty talk from the Gryffindor Princess as well? She was certainly moving things along quickly; his ball sac rose alarmingly. He tried to decide if coming quickly would be best or just embarrassing. His eyes widened slightly when he saw Sylvia Selwyn approaching their table.

"Company, pet," he growled low. "Don't you dare stop, you fucking tease. You will see this through to the end."

She hummed what sounded suspiciously like a "Yes, Master" around his pulsing length just as Sylvia came into hearing range.

"Where's your little Mudblood, Lucius?" The woman sneered. Below the table Hermione froze, momentarily distracted by the racial slur she'd barely heard at all over the last five years or so. A gentle thumb rub on her neck was soothing, but also reminded her that she was under direct orders from her Master. She redoubled her effort as Lucius spoke. It was impressive that his voice didn't waiver, especially as she lightly scraped her teeth down his cock.

"Miss Granger is using the loo, Ms. Selwyn. And I'm surprised at you, that word isn't used much in polite conversation these days." He made a show of glancing around, as if he wondered that she had been overheard. The blonde looked around herself, her lips turning down into a frown.

"What are you doing here with a tramp like her? You haven't taken a date to one of these functions in almost a decade." _Ah_ , Lucius thought, _she's jealous._ This didn't surprise him. Sylvia Selwyn was a thirty-eight-year-old war widow with two sons. Sampson had just turned nine this year, and he believed Stewart was ending his first year at Hogwarts this term. She had been after him as soon as the appropriate two-year mourning period had ended. Lucius gave a mental shudder, like he'd ever look twice at a woman like her when women like Hermione Granger existed. The second witch in question's mouth slid over his cock again, her tongue swirling behind her lips and he gave a controlled sigh as he answered the blonde in front of him with their prepared explanation for the evening.

"Miss Granger is a business acquaintance and is becoming a good friend," his tone was dismissive, "she is an exceptional lawyer and sorts legalities for one of my business properties."

"She's not your date?" Lucius almost groaned aloud from not only Sylvia's hopeful tone, but the way Hermione had just flattened her tongue against his frenulum and sucked deeply. Merlin's pants – he had taught her _too_ well!

"Not in the sense you are thinking, Ms. Selwyn," he said.

"In that case, I'm having a small luncheon at my house this Sunday. Would you care to join us, Lucius?" She sounded so incredibly hopeful that Lucius actually felt guilty about turning her down. He was so distracted by how to do so gently that he hadn't felt Hermione freeze in shock for a moment. She moved to continue the moment his fingers absentmindedly caressed her nape.

"I do apologize, Ms. Selwyn," his voice was kind, but firm in its dismissal and the woman's plain features fell, "I have plans with my son on Sunday but, even if I did not, you and I have had this conversation before. I have not changed my mind, Sylvia."

Her face pinched into an embarrassed scowl. "Too distracted with _girls_ half your age, Lucius?" It was an unattractive attitude, especially when he was trying to be kind.

Hermione couldn't help but listen avidly to the conversation happening above her while she bobbed her head over Lucius' thick length. Part of her was terrified she was going to get caught giving Lucius Malfoy a blow job under a table at a pure-blood business event, another part of her was pissed as hell that this woman was talking about her like she was, yet there was a third part of her who wanted to jump up from under the table and tell this unknown woman to back off from _her_ wizard.

Yet…Lucius Malfoy was _not_ hers, was he? Not in the sense where she could publicly lay claim to him, anyway. Not to mention, she didn't want him like that – he didn't want _her_ like that. He had made it clear they were friends, that he was happy for her and Snape. Sure, they desired each other. She loved him deeply as a friend and she had…she had Severus and he was _incredible_. She knew she was well on her way of being completely in love with the man. They had so much in common and were so comfortable with each other. She hated being away from him and thought about him all the time…and the heat between them was fireworks and lightening combined.

 _No,_ she told herself. She didn't want Lucius Malfoy like that, but damned if she didn't want anyone _else_ to have him either. And _that_ was a completely unfair way to think, because she certainly _did_ want him to have happiness. Hermione decided she would have to think on this more deeply at another time.

She could feel how close Lucius was to coming. She wondered if she should back off to give this woman time to walk away or if her standing there would only heighten Lucius' euphoria. There was a more insistent nudge at the back of her neck which Hermione took as the high sign to keep moving forward. Cupping his balls through his trousers, she gave them a little tug and was satisfied when he had to cover a small gasp with a cough and an explanation of needing water. He shifted in his seat (presumably to get some water) and Hermione took that opportune moment to swallow him whole for the second time that night. Silently working her throat around the head of his cock, she felt him explode and couldn't help the triumphant curve of her lips as she took down everything he gave her just as he calmly said goodbye to Ms. Selwyn.

Hermione knew when the witch had walked away, because he seemed to sag back in his chair. Carefully, she tucked his softening prick in his pants and buckled it away, hoping it might come out to play again later. Maybe he could fuck her in a closet or something? She gave a light snort at her mental wantonness. After another minute his long-fingered hand beckoned her from below the table and she slowly slipped up and into her seat.

Lucius couldn't help himself, he threw his head back and laughed aloud at the insanely smug smirk on his submissive's face. As he laughed, her smirk became a toothy grin that made him want to grab her by the back of the neck and snog her senseless. Damn the lot of them now avidly watching the usually cool and collected Lucius Malfoy laugh exuberantly with the one and only Hermione Granger. He held out his hand and asked her to dance instead, deciding that holding her close would have to be sufficient for now.

A couple of hours later, Lucius was escorting her home via the Apparition point in Speed Garden. Hermione was savoring fresh memories of being fucked fabulously up against a wall inside a closet that was right next to the coat check as people were getting ready to leave with Lucius' hand pressed over her nose and mouth to block the noise as her pleasure had crashed over her. She shivered in delicious remembrance.

As they made their way to her apartment, Lucius pulled her arm through his and they bent their heads against the cold, late February wind.

"Would you like to take my floo home?" she asked as they stomped their feet while walking through the vestibule into the lobby.

"Yes, please," he shivered. "I do not wish to go out into that again!" Her laugh tinkled as they made their way to the lift.

"Hermione?" he said softly as the lift quietly took them to the third floor. Merlin, what he had to say next was hard for him. His mind could not help but flash back to the way his heart had stopped as he watched Snape kiss her the day before.

"Yes?" She smiled up at him and not for the first time did he marvel at how little she was. The doors on the elevator dinged and opened for them.

Forcing himself to return her smile genuinely, he followed her down the hall to her flat as he said, "I was impressed with your well thought out journal entry."

"Oh," she answered, a blush rising to her cheeks.

"I'm positive Severus is feeling the same things," he continued. His throat thickened, and he had to swallow hard. He took a quick break and steeled himself for the words he was about to spew. "Therefore, I have decided to make the allowance of moving your sexual relationship forward."

He noticed how her body stilled at the same time her hands started trembling as she fit the key to the lock of her door. Her reaction was a combination of endearing and heartbreaking. "Oh?" It was a squeak this time.

Unable to help himself, he gave low chuckle. Only he knew it was a disappointed sound. "Don't get too excited, hands and oral exploration only – to start with anyway. Is this acceptable?"

She was closing the door behind them before she answered. "It's more than acceptable, Lucius. Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Why in the world wouldn't I be?" Inside his mind was screaming, _No! No, it is_ not _okay! Why in the world indeed, you fool!_

She seemed to contemplate that for a moment before bestowing one of her dazzling grins on him. "Thank you!" she squealed before popping up on her tip toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. His hands automatically settled on her waist as she looked up at him. "For everything…you've been…so amazing, Lucius." Her eyes closed, and she wrapped her arms around his waist in a crushing hug, which he automatically returned, before pulling back and starting to remove her cloak. "Could I interest you in some tea or another beverage?"

"Not tonight, love." He needed to go, her easy acceptance of his painstaking decision was making his chest hurt, and he did not want his emotions showing. She would be moving on soon – too soon – and he would be alone once again. _Get a grip, you dolt. You knew this was coming from day one._ It took everything in him not to tell her she was making a mistake. To tell her that he didn't just love her but was _in_ love with her. To beg her to choose him over Snape. Instead, he reached out and pulled her to him by the nape of her neck to plant a kiss on her forehead.

"Goodnight Lucius," she murmured, watching him gather some floo powder before stepping into her tiny hearth.

"Goodnight, Hermione," he answered. "I shall see you Friday." Then he was gone in a puff of green smoke and a flash of light, completely missing the torn look on Hermione's face as she watched him go.

* * *

Draco arrived at the Manor on Sunday a few hours early. He was supposed to visit with his father in the afternoon, but he figured he would join him for brunch instead. Maybe he could talk him into a horseback ride before visiting with Mony. Belby greeted him at the floo and as he took Draco's cloak and scarf, he informed the younger Malfoy that Lucius was still in his suite and had not come down yet.

Draco looked at his watch, his brows lifting in question. It was not like his father to sleep so late. He stepped into the Ladies Parlor where his mother's portrait greeted him with a smile and a good morning as his paternal grandmother's portrait criticized that his hair was too long. He never visited long with the framed women, but the truth was he still missed his mother more than he admitted to anyone. The smiles and affection that only a mother could offer, portrait or not, still nourished his soul. What he would give to have her hold him in her soft and protective arms again.

When it was close to eleven, Draco began to become concerned. He stepped towards the private staircase and was about to go up when he heard the creek of feet coming down the wooden stairs. He had to contain his gasp at how worn and haggard his father looked. Unshaven and still in his nightclothes, Lucius brushed past Draco and headed for the breakfast room with barely a grumble. Draco thought back but could not remember a time his father came downstairs in bedclothes. The man always looked impeccable.

He followed his father, cautiously considering a course of action. "Good morning, father. Are you unwell?"

Lucius sipped the coffee he just poured, peering at his son over the rim of his cup. He sat down at the table and picked up the paper. Skimming the front page, he responded, "I am quite well, Draco." The coffee was starting to wake him, and he gazed upon his son with an appraising air. "You need a haircut."

Draco rolled his eyes, "So I've been told." Unable to disguise his concern, he ploughed on. "Are you sure you are well, father? It's eleven and not only are you not dressed, but you are downstairs in your _bedclothes_."

Popping a piece of croissant in his mouth, Lucius responded dismissively, "I'm just finally living the life of a bachelor, son. I live alone now and there is no need to dress for every meal and rise before every sunrise."

Draco sat at the table as Belby produced a place setting for him. As he draped his napkin across his lap, he pondered his father's significant change in attitude. This was a man who preached tradition and proper decorum. How many times had Draco begged to be allowed to sleep past seven? How many times had he scoffed at having to be dressed to receive guests whenever in the main part of the house? These rules had been more at the insistence of his father than his mother. It was generations of Malfoy tradition that were suddenly being discarded. Something was amiss. _Very, very amiss_. And then he knew. _Granger!_

Draco drizzled syrup over his waffles and then put the heated glass dispenser down. Licking the back of his hand where a drip landed, he beamed when Belby reappeared with a platter of pork chops and baked cinnamon apples.

Lucius tilted down the corner of his paper, peering at the platter and rolled his eyes. "He only makes that when you come, you know."

Draco pushed his waffle aside to make room for the additions. "Mmmm, pork chops and waffles. The best meal ever." Cutting into the apple and then the pork, Draco asked as though he were only mildly interested, "So, how's it going with Granger?"

Lucius shook the paper back into place and continued to skim as he answered with the same appearance of indifference, "Ahead of schedule, actually. I shall be through with her training in a matter of weeks."

 _Yep, there lies the problem._ Draco and his father tended to avoid emotional conversations for the most part. It's not that they didn't have them, and it's not that they didn't care; it was years of believing that weakness, particularly emotional vulnerability, was best tucked away and not shared unless with a wife or a mother. Seeing as Lucius and Draco had neither, they had learned to confide in each other, but it was not easy, and it was not often. Severus was another the two men confided in, for he was as good as family. Severus rarely, if ever, confided in return, however.

In truth, Hermione had become the person Draco felt most comfortable sharing his feelings with, and he knew he wasn't alone in this regard. In a short amount of time the chit had spun all three men's lives onto a new axis. Draco counted himself lucky that his attachment was only as a friend – a friend whom he valued and might even love – but only a friend and no more. His father on the other hand…

So, it was with great difficulty that Draco spoke the words he knew his father needed to hear. "She loves you, you know."

Lucius froze at his son's words. What was the boy talking about? Turning the page, he asked, "And whom would that be, son?"

"Who do you think? Hermione, of course. She loves you and I'm certain you love her. And I think it would be smart if you two had an open and honest discussion about your feelings for each other."

"Draco, were you drinking this morning? What's gotten into you?"

Draco put his fork down and stared at his father, speaking softly with barely concealed impatience. "Don't do that – don't be dismissive. Not about this and certainly not about her."

Lucius let out a tired breath and put down the paper. Weary eyes met Draco's concerned ones. "You're a good son and I love you, but this is not something I care discuss."

Feeling all the frustration and worry from the past couple of months swell inside him, Draco was determined his father would hear him out. Sitting up taller to give himself a more formidable presence, he did something he had not done in years; he forced a discussion with his father and did not back down. "Well, that's too bad, because you need to hear this. She loves you, more than I think she realizes and I know you love her. Shouldn't you at least tell her how you…"

"Enough!" Lucius' fist slammed on the table causing the plates and glassware to rattle. Draco swallowed the remaining words while he watched his father lean back in his chair and rub his eyes. The man was exhausted, and Draco suddenly thought he looked haunted as well.

Looking at his son's plagued face, Lucius immediately regretted his outburst. Regaining his composure, he spoke softly, "Enough, Draco. Hermione is in love with Severus. _He_ is the wizard she wants."

"Yeah, but she loves you, too. I think if you just _talked_ to her…if she knew she had a choice."

Lucius shook his head. "And what of your Godfather? He's as good as in love with her as well, and if there is any man on this planet who deserves happiness, it's that bastard! I won't complicate this for him…or for her. They need to be given a chance. If things don't work out, well then…I'll cross that bridge if it comes."

"Father, please listen to me. She's confided in me. She told me..."

"Stop, Draco. Do not finish that sentence. I would _no more_ have you betray her trust than I would have you betray mine." Picking up his coffee and swallowing the last dreg, he put the cup down and added, "I do not wish to discuss this any further." He pushed his chair back and stood. "I'll find you when I'm showered and dressed."

Draco watched his father stride out the room. Looking back at the table, he noticed his father's plate was untouched.

Picking up his fork, he continued to eat in solitude. He had said what he needed to say. He just didn't understand how his father and Hermione could both be so blind. They just needed to talk. On the other hand, the likelihood of things working out with Snape were pretty slim. Draco just didn't see how his Godfather could be what Hermione needed in the long haul. He understood attraction and magnetism, but that could only take things so far. Perhaps his father was right and waiting it out was the play to make. In time, Snape and Hermione would probably figure out they don't work. Then his father could step in and finally have his happiness.

Tossing his napkin on his plate he stood. "Hey Belby, you got any of those little green apples Mony loves?"

* * *

"I'm tired," she murmured, watching as Snape settled on to the couch while she set up the video player.

"Do you want me to go?" He knew he hadn't been able to keep the disappointment out of his voice when she sent a soft smile in his direction while pushing play on the DVD player.

Her voice was thick with sincerity when she answered him. "No, Severus. I don't want you to leave. I hate it when you have to go." He couldn't maintain his eye contact with her as he felt his chest swell with emotion. Snape was not sure why her words always affected him so. Perhaps because she was returning the sentiment and echoing the words he had spouted out at Lucius the previous week – that he hated leaving her at the end of the night. He couldn't wait until he could take her to bed and stay there with her until morning.

Hermione's heart was thrumming. It had been almost five whole days (and they had made it through dinner and dessert) and she still hadn't told him that Lucius had given her permission to move forward a step. Snape had been extra cautious tonight, avoiding too much touching. She knew why, he was frustrated and worried that he would lose control.

Part of her wanted to spout it out, to shout it to the rooftops, but something was telling her that letting the moment get heated and then telling him when he started to draw away was the right move to make. That it would make things more intense, not to mention more natural. Telling him just because she could would just send them both into immediate flurried action, which she worried would make the situation feel artificial and rushed. As if it would maybe make them feel like they _had_ to do it, not that they _wanted_ to.

 _You have to admit to yourself that there's a part of you still not a hundred percent sure that you're completely ready for this step, either, Hermione._ She sighed internally and focused on the man in front of her. Her whole body melted when she found him watching her with soft, dark eyes. Eyes that spoke of growing adoration and affection. Her heart fluttered.

"Get comfortable," she told him, smacking his knee gently with a throw pillow. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow before cautiously tucking a different pillow on the arm rest of the davenport and lying down. He realized what she was going to do a moment before she did it and was about to protest when she stopped him with a pleading look. "We can be good," she promised. "I just want to be near you."

Snape swallowed hard as she settled herself over him, lying with her head pillowed on his chest and entwining her stockinged feet with his. His upper limbs were raised cautiously as she adjusted briefly until she was comfortable. Staring incredulously at the top of her head, he slowly brought his arms down to wrap around her shoulders before burying his nose into her hair.

Had he ever done something so…normal…with a woman before? Snuggle on the couch while watching the television? Snape's lips pulled down in a frown when he felt emotion rise in this throat for the second time that night. Almost desperately, he tangled one hand in her hair while gently stroking her back between her shoulder blades with the other. It was like he was afraid she was going to disappear – this little slip of a young woman who had turned his whole world upside down.

"See? Isn't this nice?" she murmured once the movie had started. It was an oldie that they had chosen together from the video store around the corner – _Death on the Nile_.

He hummed his agreement. It _was_ nice. Apparently, it was too nice because he couldn't stop the erection that was starting to form. He was a red-blooded male that had only gotten off on solo hand jobs for the last six weeks plus. Not only was he a red-blooded male, but owner of a BDSM club. He was definitely not used to abstaining. He sighed internally and focused on the movie.

Hermione had to give the man credit, she knew he had to be uncomfortable, she had been laying across the top of him for the better part of the last hour. They had made small talk a few times, and she supposed it helped that the movie was good and was keeping their attention. However, she couldn't help but be impressed that he had not acted on the fact he'd had an erection for the last forty minutes at least. He really was trying to be a good boy.

"Is it me or does that one actress…the one who plays Miss Bowers…look like a young Minerva McGonagall?" he asked her.

The question startled Hermione enough to actually look at the actress. "I suppose she does, if you squint a little…" He snorted, which caused her to shift and her thigh rubbed heavily over his cock. There was a sharp intake of breath and Hermione felt heat pool in her belly. It was time to act – they could finish the movie next time. Or never. She didn't care. In this very moment, she knew this was what she wanted. Hermione lifted her head to meet his heated gaze with her own and carefully folded her arms across his chest to push up slightly and initiate a kiss.

There was a low growl in his throat, which was the only warning she got before he was grabbing her elbows and hoisting them both up into a sitting position, so she was straddling his lap.

"You ask…too much…control…of me…witch," Snape told her adamantly between deep, slow kisses that made her feel drugged and lethargic. Hermione's hands rested lightly on his chest as he held her head hostage to have his way with her mouth.

"What if – " He cut her off with another kiss. "Severus!" she tried again a moment later, tilting her head to avoid another onslaught of his mouth. The access she denied to her lips only made him take a detour to her jaw and down her neck. "Oooo…what if I told you we could lose control a little?"

Hard muscles froze under her fingers. "What do you mean?"

Black eyes locked to hers, glittering with heat reminiscent of glowing coals. "Lucius said hands and mouths…no BDSM, no sex…but hands and mouths," Hermione admitted quietly before capturing her lower lip between her teeth. She hoped he wouldn't be upset she hadn't told him immediately.

For a moment he looked completely thunderstruck and then he was up, crossing the room with long, purposeful strides while Hermione clung to his neck with a squeal of surprise. "You waited all night to tell me?" he growled playfully as hefted her into the middle of the bed. He was wasting no time, unbuckling the button her dress pants with slow but sure purpose as he spoke.

"I wanted it to happen naturally. I didn't want it to feel like we _had_ to – I didn't want to force it," she admitted reluctantly. If possible, his eyes darkened further, and he tugged her clothing off her hips, revealing Slytherin green lace.

"Ah, princess," he murmured huskily. "Are these for me?" He smoothed his fingers over the fabric and she gasped, her upper back arching as her eyes fluttered shut.

"Yes!" she whimpered. "The bra matches."

"Merlin and Morgana, witch," he breathed, dropping kisses to each inch of skin he bared. "You will be the death of me, you know this…"

"I think that goes both ways," she murmured. "Let me undress you," she begged. "Or undress yourself, I don't care. I just want to touch you." Snape pulled back from her and pulled his sweater up and over his head, flinging it to the ground as he watched her do the same with her own top. She hadn't been teasing him, she was wearing a matching green lace bra that cupped her breasts just right. The only thing he hated about this picture was that there was another man's collar around her neck. _But it's Luc's, I can share with Luc – for now._

Hermione smirked at him, curling a finger as she leaned back on one palm. "Kiss me," she told him, "please." Her confidence was making him barmy and while he was never fond of being on the receiving end of orders in the bedroom, this had been so long coming he was beyond caring. Deciding to make short work of it, he stripped his trousers before crawling up her body and settling over her with the intention of kissing her just as she asked. She welcomed him with open arms, wrapping her legs around his hips as he fit himself to the grooves and hallows of her body as if he belonged there.

Hands instantly gliding down the hard planes of his back, Hermione met his kiss with equal fervor. She didn't understand how something could be so completely all consuming. Everywhere they touched she felt scorched. Every movement heightened her senses and caused her heart to pound frantically in her chest. She realized she was trembling. She knew it wasn't nerves, she also knew it wasn't excitement. It was merely his presence and his touch. This man, who had come back into her life so unconventionally. Who had been frustrating and insecure in his feelings but had fought through, so they could be where they were now. They both owed Lucius so much for helping them get here, to this incredible place.

She moaned softly as his lips left hers to trail down her throat to the valley of her breasts, nipping and suckling at the soft skin as his hands slipped under her to undo her brassier. Reverently, Snape pulled the lacey garment away from her skin and smugly took in the immediate eruption of gooseflesh over her body as her nipples hardened before his eyes.

Never taking his eyes from hers, he mouthed and tongued her breasts. Paying special attention to their peaks, he made her gasp and groan and bow her body under his ministrations before continuing his path down her stomach to the scrap of fabric that was now darkly saturated with her lust.

Hermione pushed up on her elbows to watch as he hooked his fingers in the sides of her knickers and slowly pulled them down, lifting her hips to help him get them off. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting to do this?" he murmured as he planted kisses up the inside of one thigh. She sighed at the sensation, all the while trying to get her body to cease its incessant trembling.

"Tell me," she murmured before whimpering when his mouth met the inside juncture of her thigh and her pussy. "Oh, fuck!"

"Since that first night, Hermione," Snape told her. The rumble of his baritone and the heat of his breath caused her quim to twitch with need and leak even more profusely then it had already been. With that, there were no more words.

Snape parted her lips with his tongue, his hands holding her splayed legs apart. It appeared the sensation had been too much for Hermione because all he saw was her eyes rolling back in her head before she allowed herself to fall back into to the pillows. Her fingers tangled into her puffy bedspread and she began panting. When he suckled on her clit, one set of fingers tangled roughly in his hair. He rumbled his approval which only made her roll her hips as nonsensical words fell from her lips.

He didn't touch her with his fingers, next time he would add that sensation. They only had so much they could work with. He would have to get creative to keep this interesting for them over the next few weeks…or for however long Lucius made them wait.

In very little time she was gasping her intent to come, and he dove his tongue as deep up her cunt as he could, continuing to stimulate her clit with his nose. "Nnn! Yes!" she cried out hoarsely as the coil in her womb sprung loose. "Oh fuck, Severus!"

After making sure he took in every drop of her release and making her shudder and squeal with overstimulation in the process, it took active will power to not pull away from her sweet pussy and slam himself deep into her. Instead, he followed his same path back up her delectable body as she breathed heavily and trembled with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Snape lay against her, kissing her slowly and languidly as her breathing returned to normal and her heartrate steadied. As soon as she had the strength, she pushed his chest, indicating she wanted him to roll onto his back. Then Hermione started paying his body the same homage as he had just done for her; nipping and trailing her tongue over his throat, gently nibbling the scars on his neck before moving to the hard, defined planes of his chest. She laved her tongue down the groove of his abdomen, stopping to blow cool air on his navel, which made him grunt and flex his abdominal muscles.

"Just a warning, Hermione," he said as she moved to take his boxers down.

"Hmm?" she looked up at him with lust clouded eyes.

"I may not last very long," he said gently. "I haven't been touched by anything other than my own hand in over six weeks." He watched with some satisfaction as her mouth dropped slightly and her eyes widened and cleared.

"You…what?"

"You're the only witch I want, Hermione," he answered. He loved the softening of her features, loved the emotion in her eyes as she fully realized what he was telling her. In this moment, his inability to be aroused by other women was absolutely worth it. In this moment, he realized that there would never be another witch on earth who could make him feel like this. Nothing would ever beat the absolutely look of joy on her face. "Nothing felt right, so I stopped. You were worth the wait, love."

"Oh, Severus," she whispered as one delicate hand came up to cover her mouth. He gave her a crooked smile, and this prompted her to crawl right back up and over him. Hermione wrapped her arms lovingly around his neck. "Thank you," she breathed, looking into his eyes. "You have no idea what that means to me." Then she was kissing him as she never had before while touching him with soft, smooth hands. His face, his neck, his chest, and shoulders all came ablaze under her tender ministrations. All he could do was respond to her and hold her hips as he soared emotionally. All these years waiting for this one witch; what a surprise she had been.

Snape marveled in the fact that an action _he_ had done was causing such affection and vowed he would do whatever he had to in order to make her look at him that way for the rest of his life. For the second time that night she started a trail down to his eagerly awaiting hardon, this time nothing stopped her from disrobing the rest of the way. When her small, hot hand gripped and stroke him for the first time, he literally had to grit his teeth to avoid coming instantaneously.

Her hands were nothing compared to her mouth, however, and he was gone. He'd had every intention of watching exactly what it is she was doing to him but was unable to keep his eyes open. He was faintly aware of rumbles of approval in his chest as his hands blindly sought her hair.

Hermione was ever so pleased with his instinctual reaction to her oral ministrations. The moment his head lolled back, and his obsidian eyes fluttered shut her mind crowed its victory. She was taking her approach slowly and cautiously because there was no way she could fit him all down her throat. Lucius was a "just barely" situation, so Severus was out being he was a few inches longer, but she would to the best she could.

She also knew that their intimate time would have to become quite creative depending on how long Lucius made them wait before picking it up a notch. Hermione wasn't about to showcase her full set of oral skills in one go – and it wasn't like he was complaining by the sounds of him. When his fingers delved into her hair with surprising gentleness, Hermione purred. She focused the sound to vibrate through her lips as her tongue swirled and her head bobbed. True to his word, he did not last long. One sharp snarl left him, and his spunk hit the back of her throat so hard it almost made her gag. Instead she swallowed hard and fast and kept working her mouth over him until the fingers in her hair insistently pulled her away.

She was surprised to find Snape sitting and only had a moment to take in wild eyes before his mouth crashed to hers. Hermione gasped when he pulled her flush against himself and just clung to her for dear life while he kissed her breathless. It felt like hours later when their kisses mellowed from desperately passionate to slow and sweet. Both were breathing regularly, and hands were still.

She smiled sleepily at him, before glancing at the clock over his shoulder. It was just past eleven and she was knackered. She tentatively asked, "Will you stay, Severus? Stay with me now that we can act on our desires?"

"I will, if you'll have me."

"I'll have you," she told him lovingly. "I need the loo."

"Me too."

"You go first," she suggested.

He agreed and left the room. When she heard the door click, she pulled her robe on and sat at her built-in desk rummaging through her work bag until she found her journal. She didn't want to forget to enter her meals, exercise, and sleep. Now that she had a taste of Lucius Malfoy's punishment spankings, she wanted to avoid those at all cost. Not even being intimate with Severus Snape would make her forget.

"What're you doing, princess?" he asked when he came out of the loo. She swiveled in her chair and smiled happily at him.

"Just my journal entry." She watched appreciatively while he bent to pull his boxers off the floor, her head tilting to get a better view of his arse. "Can I ask you something?" she said absentmindedly while continuing to jot down her day.

Snape was doing his best not to let his mood go completely sour at the realization that, after their lovely, intimate moment after weeks of anticipation, her first thought had been to run to the journal where she communicated with her Master and his best friend. He clenched his teeth as he jerked on his boxers. _She is just doing what she has to,_ he told himself. If their night had ended any other way, he wouldn't even be here anymore. Not to mention she was probably under threat of punishment if she didn't complete her entries nightly. It was a conscious decision when he made his voice light and spoke.

"You and your insatiable mind, Miss Granger," he teased before settling into the bed. She grimaced slightly when he stretched out on the right side. Okay…she could make that concession. She'd just move the alarm clock to the other side and get used to it.

"Why do you call me princess?"

There was a pause and then a low rumbled laugh. "You won't like it."

That caught her full attention. Both her eyebrows shot up and she turned to face him fully.

"Oh, really?" her tone was a bit threatening and his eyebrows raised as well before he pulled a face.

"As you well know, being I was your Potions Professor, I taught for two additional years after the war," he started.

"Yes?" she prompted after a brief pause.

"The staff…and the year following your graduation the students as well…" He trailed off and sighed. "Bloody hell. I'm actually sure they probably still call you …"

Hermione's curiosity was stifled, she knew what was coming but she played along anyway. "What in the world did they call me?"

"Gryffindor's Princess." The statement was flat, like he was waiting for her to start yelling at him.

Instead, she laughed. "I was wondering if that's where it came from." She sighed. "I do dislike that, but I've never been able to put an end to it."

"You knew?"

"I did. Damned Harry is the one who started it." She wrinkled her nose before turning away from him. "He was sick of always being called _The Chosen One_ and _The Boy Who Lived_ and decided that getting me stuck with a damned outlandish moniker would be funny. I might not be able to prevent the masses from saying it," she told him over her shoulder. "But I am going to ask you to stop."

"Seriously?"

Hermione looked up again to find Snape quite surprised by the request. "Dead serious. Find me another nick name, please," she teased while going back to her task. "Everyone else has their pet names for me. Draco calls me Beaves – don't ask, Lucius, Etan, and Rose call me Doll, Jonathan calls me Poppet, Ginny calls me HG, the boys and the Weasleys call me 'Mione…the list goes on. Get creative, Professor. You're exceptionally bright, I'm sure you can think of _something_."

There was a second of quiet and then Hermione was being hauled unceremoniously from her chair and flung back to the bed. She shrieked and laughed when Snape all but pounced on her. "I don't even need time to think, _princess_ ," he hissed against her neck before nipping gently at the skin below her jaw. "I will just call you what I should have called you from the very start. What you would have been called had I not been a fool and had agreed to take you on as a training submissive, and what you will _be_ as soon as you are released from your contract with Lucius."

She smirked up at him curiously and then shivered when his lips traced her cheekbone before he settled his lips to hers.

"And what's that?" she asked when he ended the sweet kiss.

His eyebrows rose and his endearing, crooked smile split his features. He lowered his head again, so his lips would brush hers when he said it and watched happily as her pupils dilated. The chosen name was extremely confident as it left his mouth. " _Mine_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To see the photos that inspired Hermione's Chastity Belt and the grey dress she wore on her non-date with Lucius find us!
> 
> TUMBLR: LissaDream & Snowblind12  
> Facebook: www.facebook.com/snowand.lissa.7


	27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: LD and I are thrilled by the reception we received from our trilogy announcement! It warms our hearts to know so many readers out there are invested in this story enough to find this declaration to be a good thing! There is so much more to come in this adventure and we are very excited about it. The first book will end with chapter 31 so it's not far off!
> 
> We would like to send out a huge thank you to our new Beta - Raynephoenix !! She has graciously offered her assistance and we are very pleased to have her on board! She has not only assisted with this chapter, but has agreed to go through all the prior ones as well. This is quite a task and we are grateful beyond words!
> 
> Thanks as always for all comments and reviews!!! ~Snow

 

* * *

**BETA: Raynephoenix2**

* * *

Draco, Snape, and Lucius stepped out of the café and into the cool mid-day air. It was the first Thursday of the last month in the quarter, which meant the three men had lunch and talked business. For the past three years, Draco had been included in a quarterly meeting with his father and godfather to discuss The Dungeon's affairs. It was no secret that Draco would one day inherit the club from the two older wizards and it had been agreed that while the younger Malfoy currently held no controlling interest in the business, he should be kept abreast of the finer points all the same. So, it was on these Thursday meetings that Draco was informed of profit margins, expenses, and staff concerns as well as any plans for expansion or growth.

As they walked towards the Apparition point, Draco pondered what had been discussed. The club was doing very well. It had two levels of membership; one allowed access to the main room floor only and the other included unlimited access to the upstairs fetish rooms and private areas downstairs as well. The general membership was for the individuals who were interested and involved in the lifestyle but only wanted the club as a social point. These members typically used the club to meet with like-minded individuals, make new friends, and scout out potential partners. This membership held an annual fee of one hundred galleons and the club did very well financially based on the thousands of members who paid this base fee – for its members were not limited to the UK. After all, The Dungeon was only a portkey and an Apparition away for like-minded magicians all over Europe.

While there were magical kink clubs scattered throughout the globe, with the exception of the clubs 'Obedience' in Amsterdam and 'Dirty Deeds' in Salem, The Dungeon was considered the crème de la crème when it came to fetish fuckery. With its premium members paying a deluxe membership fee of two hundred and fifty galleons annually, it was important to maintain that reputation and Lucius and Severus took great pains to keep the club interesting.

It was with this in mind that the three wizards found themselves at the portkey authority office securing a one thirty departure for St. Moritz, Switzerland. From there, a short Apparition would find them at the home of the foremost Master of Interior Design Charms and renowned recluse, Caspari Keller. Keller had been responsible for the design and functionality of the majority of the fetish rooms at The Dungeon. His best work to date, in Draco's opinion, was the outdoor forest where he had scened with Granger and the church replication. However, it had been over two years since the Dungeon had added a new room. It was time to make the investment, and it was an expensive investment for Caspari Keller did not come cheap.

When they arrived at the elderly wizard's home, Draco should not have been surprised to find that what looked like a small and quaint house on the outside was actually a monumental castle on the inside. Expecting a man of such wealth and reputation to have his pick of witches, Draco was even more surprised to find the wizard still besotted with his equally elderly and not so spry wife, Adheliza.

All three English wizards had chuckled when Caspari had introduced Adheliza as his blushing bride of over ninety years. He estimated the couple to be between 110 and 120 years old, and Draco found himself drawn to the light touches and sweet glances the elderly couple shared while trying not to stare. _Did elderly people still have sex?_ It was not something he had ever really thought about before, but there was no doubt this couple held great affection for each other. It made Draco feel a bit warm and a little reassured that life could have great things in store for him.

He had to admit the thought of loving one woman and one woman only for a lifetime was…well… was that even possible? Certainly, couples stayed together and held true to their marriage vows, but Draco had always assumed that at a random point most couples ceased a romantic love and assumed more of a friendship and companionship role for each other. However, seeing Caspari and Adheliza together, he felt that assumption tested. He looked at his father and hoped that Narcissa had not been the only true love for the man. He was only fifty-one after all, surely there was another love out there for him. Draco then looked at his Godfather and couldn't help but wonder if Granger could be the one for either of them?

His thoughts were pulled to the task at hand when Caspari showed them the role play room designs he had conjured for their perusal. Lucius had put on his glasses and was particularly interested in a prison cell design, while Severus was scrutinizing the drawings of something Draco was not as familiar with – Muggle fairy tales. More specifically, Cinderella and Little Red Riding Hood. Draco thought he might have heard of them, but he wasn't quite sure. Severus was very intrigued and felt the scenarios could prove to be very popular, especially to the growing muggle-born membership. Draco decided it was something he would ask Granger about at a later time.

The younger Malfoy was particularly surprised when he saw the room Caspari had already been paid to design. It was a room his Godfather had sworn would never be included at the club and yet here it was – in the final stages of approval. Lucius and Severus both looked it over and after a brief discussion, gave Caspari the final go ahead for it and contracted the wizard to further explore and develop the fairy tale and prison cell rooms. They declined interest in the Auror interrogation room and Arabian Harem tent for the time being.

By the time they made it back to the Manor, it was after four. Deciding they would share a drink, the three headed into Lucius' study and took their usual seats; Lucius and Severus in the wingback chairs and Draco on the sofa. Sipping on their whiskey's, onyx eyes fixed on Draco. "I haven't seen you with M yet, Drake. She was your school mate for seven years, not to mention a Slytherin. Do you not wish to reacquaint yourself with her?"

Draco rolled his eyes at the knowing looks the older wizards were bestowing. He had managed not to think about the witch all day and now the plethora of emotions and thoughts that accompanied the vision of her flooded him once again. The tinkling of ice in his glass reverberated throughout the room as he polished off his drink and put the heavy crystal tumbler on the table to his right. "I…I don't think she wants to talk to me, much less…anything more than that."

Lucius' eyebrows knitted together as he watched his normally confident son seem to sink in on himself. "Now, why would you think that?"

Draco let out a deep breath. "She doesn't even look my direction at the club. I've tried to at least make eye contact, but she…it's like she is deliberately ignoring me." He shrugged lightly and said as an afterthought, "Not that I blame her." His voice could barely be heard.

Severus studied his godson. Feeling he had a better understanding on the situation than Lucius, he advised the younger man, "I have recently learned that apologies can have wonderful consequences." Both blond wizards looked at him, understanding exactly what he was referring to, but the darker wizard kept his focus solely on the man who was like a son to him.

"It's different, Severus. I didn't just make a couple mistakes. I treated her horribly for most of the seven years we were in school and ignored her the rest. I blew off her attempts at friendship and worse - I called her a fat cow when she asked me to the Yule Ball. I was…" He let out a breath. "Oh, man...I was awful."

Lucius watched his son thoughtfully for a moment and then spoke calmly but firmly. "All the more reason for you to approach her then. You owe the witch an apology, and by the sounds of it, a good one."

Draco let out a small dismissive huff. Fighting his innate desire to simply clam up and speak no more of the sordid situation, he continued in a small voice. "She'll just say I'm being opportunistic and don't really mean it. She'll think I just want to fuck her."

Lucius pressed his point. "Well, I'm curious. Isn't that what you want? Who's to say she wouldn't be game. You know…show you what you're missing out on. It might be a grudge fuck on her part, but would you care? The end result is the same, after all. Besides, it's the perfect punishment scenario…right up your alley."

Severus shot a curious gaze at his best friend. These were not the words he expected out of Lucius' mouth. Then he understood, Lucius wasn't advising, he was fishing. To Severus' amusement, Draco swallowed the bait easily. Lucius definitely knew his son's strings and pulled them like a master puppeteer.

Draco's tone was impatient and irritated. "I don't want to just _fuck_ her. Well, of course I'd love for that to be on the menu, but it just feels wrong. Like I…like I don't deserve it…deserve her. I'm so ashamed of how I treated her. _So_ many memories have started to come back." He shifted uncomfortably, ashamed to admit something that had plagued him for many years. "I think the worst, the absolute worst, was what happened in fifth year. She had a crush on BIaise something fierce. When he found out, he approached her and said he liked her and asked if she would meet him on the astronomy tower, so they could talk. She didn't believe him at first but after a while and a few days of trying she finally relented. So…there she was, by herself, standing on that awful tower one night waiting for him and then he shows up on his broom with Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and me in tow and we proceeded to throw pastries at her." Draco had his head in his hands as he stared at the floor. "The thing is, I felt sick to my stomach as I did it but I laughed and played along and was as guilty as the next asshole because I was too weak to stand up to my friends."

Severus' jaw fell open. This was not a story he had heard, and he thought he had heard them all when it came to his Slytherin's. "Merlin."

Draco swallowed, grabbed his glass and stood to re-approach the bar.

"Trust me. That's not your answer. Put the glass down and look at me, son."

Draco froze for a moment and then slowly did as his father demanded. Turning back to Lucius, he was shocked when instead of seeing well deserved disappointment in his father's eyes, he saw understanding. "We have each of us in this room made grave errors, Draco. We've made poor decisions and have done things we are ashamed of, but the only way to move past them is to do right by them. You owe her an apology. What you did was reprehensible, but you were also a child. A child who _I raised_ to believe prejudice and superiority were not only acceptable but to be embraced. None of us believe that any more and I have spent the last eleven years of my life trying to make up for it. You are no longer that bully, and you need to make your amends as well. It starts with an apology. She may not accept it - that would be her choice and her right – but at least you can start to put that guilt behind you."

Draco walked back the sofa and collapsed on it, laying down while kicking his shoes to the floor.

Severus contemplated Lucius' words and added his own. "You called Hermione Granger a Mudblood…for years. You tormented her and her friends and took every opportunity to make her life miserable. And what is she now? She's one of your best friends, Draco. People have an immense capability to forgive but you have to give them the chance." Severus stood and put his half empty glass down. "On that note, I am due at Miss Granger's shortly and if I don't get moving, I'll be late. I will bid you both a good evening."

Draco didn't miss the crestfallen look on his father's face. It was brief and was quickly concealed with a mask of indifference, but Draco caught it all the same. As soon as Severus left, Draco turned to his father. "How about we head into Muggle-London for some pizza. Then we can go back to my place and play chess. You game?"

Fully expecting his father's usual refusal and claim of work to be done, he was surprised when after a moment's thought, Lucius turned back to him smiled. "You know what? That sounds like just the thing. Let me change out of my work robes."

So, it was with a lighter step that Draco entered the Ladies Parlour to wish his mother a good evening and it was with a flush of relief that he realized his father was right. An apology. It might not make everything ok, but it was a start. He felt better as a plan began to form.

* * *

"How can you even say that?" Hermione teased as she laughed heartily.

"Easily, it's true! The man was as bad as a second year as he is now. His robes were just a lot shorter and held significantly less buttons."

Hermione shook her head with playful admonishment as she pushed her plate away before resting her forearms on the table. "And what would Severus say if he knew you were telling such stories about him?"

Lucius' eyes twinkled with merriment as he leaned forward and disclosed conspiratorially, "Don't let him fool you, Doll. The man takes great pride and has worked very hard for his reputation. In truth, the only one he was ever nice towards was…" His face froze for a beat before he looked away, his expression suddenly a bit tense. Clearing his throat lightly, he picked up his glass before whispering, "Never mind." He swallowed the last of his wine before putting the glass down, seemingly in thought.

Hermione watched him for a moment. He had stopped himself from saying a name. Whether he was protecting Severus' confidence or her own feelings, Hermione couldn't be sure. Perhaps it was both. She smiled lightly. "You were going to say Lily, weren't you?"

His eyes flicked to hers with a touch of surprise, regarding her and clearly wondering how much the young witch knew. After a pause he nodded slightly. "Well, yes. She was really his only friend at that point, but it wasn't for the lack of trying on his schoolmate's parts. We all tried with him, but he was a very private and quiet kid and rather mature for his age. Which was why I, as a seventh year, had taken such interest in him. However, his regard towards myself and the other Slytherins was… indecipherable." Lucius tossed his napkin on the table. "But when he was with her? He was completely different. He was an open book and there was no question he thought the sun rose and fell with her."

Hermione maintained an open and calm façade, but the unwelcome twinge of jealousy and self-doubt could not be suppressed. She swigged her water goblet, frustrated with herself for feeling such an emotion. Lily was long dead and as such, Hermione had no wish to compete with her. After all, how do you compete with a woman who has likely become more and more perfect with each year that has passed since her death?

Hermione watched as a pensive look grew on Lucius' face. He absent-mindedly rubbed his thumb on the edge of his plate and seemed to be absorbed with a thought when he added, "After I graduated, I really didn't see him very much. Not until he was recruited, anyway." He looked up at Hermione. "He was so proud to have been sought after by such a powerful wizard."

His words took on an air of reverence as he continued. "But Severus saw the man for what he was long before the rest of us. And when that monster killed Lily? I thought for sure Severus' allegiance would waver, which of course it did. Only no one knew it, least of all me."

Curious, Hermione asked hesitantly, "Do you think if you had known Severus switched sides that you might have changed your ways sooner?"

Lucius looked pained as he shook his head. He went on to explain, "I was very wrapped up in my own circumstances, Hermione. Voldemort was preaching pureblood supremacy and it was music to my prejudiced ears. However, in truth, his behavior and cruelty bothered me…immensely. He made light of killing purebloods who got in his way, which to me challenged everything the despot had supposedly believed in. His actions contradicted his words, but it was of no matter because he vanished. While I was relieved he was gone, my innate prejudices lingered."

They were each lost in their thoughts for a moment before Lucius sighed heavily. "Well, nothing like a little light dinner conversation." Hermione let out a soft huff of amusement as she pondered their discussion. It was quiet for a spell and she realized he was watching her closely. She looked up at him in question, her eyes bright with curiosity.

He leaned back in his chair. "I realize tonight isn't a training night, but I have a proposition for you."

Now she was _really_ curious. She gave him coy hint of a smile. "What sort of proposition? I'm intrigued."

He watched her as though deliberating whether to proceed and then flashed a small, warm smile. "I feel you are ready for anal sex. I also feel it might be easier and more comfortable if your first time is in a bed and somewhere you feel completely at ease. What I am not sure of is whether you would be more comfortable here, in your suite, or at the club."

Hermione was staring with wide-eyed shock. Whatever she'd thought he might bring up, this wasn't it. She felt a surge of excitement rush from her brain to her pounding chest and then to her gut. She blushed when she swore she felt her nether lips flutter. "Really?" she squeaked, unable to contain her excitement. With each week's enlarging of her plug, she'd hoped that would be the week; the week he would finally take her in the way her dirtiest and most secret masturbatory fantasies had imagined.

"Judging by your reaction, it appears you are in agreement." He chortled lightly. "I'm doing something I don't normally do, pet. I'm giving you a choice. We can do it tonight and here or we can do it Wednesday. If we do it Wednesday, we can still come here if you prefer."

Hermione's head was spinning. She'd wanted this for so long, but suddenly wisps of doubt clouded her determination. She chose her words carefully. "I've been very anxious to do this Lucius, as you know. I feel I'm physically ready and I would love to do it here, tonight. But…"

"But?"

"I'm not sure my mindset is really submissive right now. I'm not prepared. I mentally ready myself before our Wednesday and Friday night sessions because I have to turn everything else off in my head. I'm not in that headspace and I'm afraid I'll screw up and earn a punishment."

Lucius nodded in understanding, reaching out and taking her hand reassuringly. "All I require is your sexual submission, Hermione. Just do as I say and when I say. There will be no formal submitting if we do this tonight. You will not be kneeling, and you can address me and talk to me however you are most comfortable. Standard rules of submission will not apply." Releasing her hand, he plucked her bottom lip from her upper incisor's. "That being said, it's perfectly fine if you don't feel like tonight is the time."

Hermione glanced at her empty wine glass. She had only consumed one drink and she now noticed the rest of the bottle was not on the table.

Catching her thought, Lucius added, "Yes, only one glass a piece this evening. Enough to relax the tensions of the day, but not enough to cloud judgement to an extreme."

After a moment's further contemplation, Hermione giggled. "Merlin, I feel like a virgin at the senior Yule Ball."

Lucius' eyes lit up with wolfish delight. "Ah, what a delicious idea for a role play. We'll have to expand on that another night."

He was watching her, waiting for an answer. Convinced she had contemplated an appropriate amount of time, she nodded. "Yes, Lucius. Let's do it tonight…here."

Wasting no time, he pushed his chair from the table and stood to quickly step to hers. Easing her chair back, he took her hand and assisted her to stand. Hermione needed no more help standing than a fish needed a hand to swim, but she was used to this wizard's formality and impeccable manners. It was the way he rolled, and Hermione had grown to fancy it while dining at the Manor.

When they approached the door to what Lucius had referred to as her suite, he held it open and she stepped into the warm and welcoming space. It was as she remembered, luxurious and lavish yet somehow warm and inviting. He took her hand. "This is your suite, Hermione. Whenever you have need of it. Not just while you are contracted to me. The wards are already set to allow your entry and the house elves have been instructed to assist you as needed. While you have not used it since New Year's, it is always available to you."

She turned to him and touched his cheek gently with her fingertips. "What did I ever do to deserve you, Lucius." Unable to resist, she pulled him close and hugged him tightly. "I love you tons, Lucius. Thank you for being so wonderful!"

Nestling his cheek into her curly locks he inhaled her sweet scent, wanting no more in this moment than to keep holding her. Exhaling deeply, he shook it off and answered lightly, "I love you too, pet." He patted her bottom and kissed the top of her head. "Now, how about you undress me."

Stepping back, Hermione reached up and unbuttoned each delicate, pearl button from its accompanying silk bind of his shirt. She had long ago quit marveling at the wealth of the wizard before her. Every bit of clothing he wore, mind the occasional muggle jeans and t-shirt (which she had only ever seen him in once) was handmade. Buttons made of pearl, onyx, and even opal were a common thing. His shirts and trousers were hand made in Paris or Italy and were of the finest silks and weaves. It was mindboggling when she really thought about it, so she chose not to.

She couldn't help but admire the planes of his chest as she slid his shirt down his arms. Arms that were strong but not large and bulky with muscle. They were defined and smooth and could wield her about as though she were a feather. When she reached for his belt buckle, a firm and soft hand draped over hers and stilled her.

Alluring hazelnut eyes that questioned what he wanted glowed up at him. Softly touching her cheek, he instructed, "In the loo there is a vial on the vanity. A potion, it will…prepare you. Cleanse you." He watched the predictable soft blush of her pale skin. Tilting her chin up, he smirked. "Be glad such a potion exists, pet. It was a mere ten years ago that it was not available. Enema's were the standard of practice."

Hermione stepped back, a barely concealed look of disgust on her face. "Well, if I ever meet the amazing mind that developed the potion, please enlighten me so that I can thank him or her."

Lucius laughed. "I believe you have a date with him on Tuesday."

Hermione's jaw fell. "What? Seriously?"

Lucius shrugged. "Severus holds patents on several potions, my dear. He has a small lab off his flat and a large one in the basement of The Dungeon. He's always working on something." Lucius looked at her questioningly. "He hasn't told you?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, he hasn't." In all their dates, Severus rarely spoke of himself. She would ask, but he always found a way to turn the conversation back towards her.

Sensing her frustration, Lucius added, "Don't let it bother you, Doll. He'll tell you if you ask, he's just not one to toot his own horn so to speak."

In that moment, Hermione realized how the two men were almost polar opposites of each other. Except for the Dominance proclivity that was. One had dark hair and eyes and was brooding and private and taciturn. The other was platinum haired with steel grey eyes and was outgoing, basked in attention, and liked to show off.

Having gotten lost in her thoughts, she started when Lucius smacked her bottom. "Run along now. Take the potion or I'll pull out the enema kit."

"I'm going! I'm going," she proclaimed as she dashed for the en-suite. After emptying her bladder, Hermione noticed the small blue vial. ' _Colon Tonic' Drink entire vial. Allow ten minutes for full efficacy._ Popping the cork, she drank it down quickly. A fizzy feeling in her bottom made her cringe, but thankfully the sensation was short lived. Spotting the beautiful, peacock-blue silk robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door, Hermione figured she may as well get comfortable and undressed completely before letting her hair down and slipping it on.

Stepping back into the bedroom, the lights had been dimmed and Lucius was standing by the now lit fire, one hand on the mantle as he stared into the blaze. Sensing her quiet presence, he turned back to face her. Hermione felt prurient yearning overcome her when she saw his lascivious and prowling eyes flit hungrily down her form. Here she was, wrapped in a beautiful yet simple silk robe but judging by his reaction, she could have been naked and dipped in caramel with hundreds of million-Galleon notes clinging to her skin. She suppressed a chuckle and marveled at how desirable this wizard made her feel.

"Take it off," he practically growled. "Slowly."

Hermione swallowed heavily as she delicately untied the sash of the robe. His eyes stayed on hers until the strips of silk fell to her side. She could practically feel the heat from his stare on her breasts, stomach, and thighs as his focus slowly crept down her form like warm honey. A quick up-tilt of his chin and another penetrating stare left no question he wanted the robe off. Shrugging her shoulders back, the robe slipped down her body into a puddle at her feet.

"Come here." His voice sounded raw. He began to unbuckle his trousers as he drank in the curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts, and the sway of her hips.

As she approached, she felt empowered by the desire she spawned in him. Hermione paused when she was only inches away from his chest, close enough that her hardened and peaked nipples were merely a hair's breadth from touching his abdomen with each inhalation of air. Unable to stand it, she looked up at him and her wanting eyes left no question of how she longed for his touch.

She closed her eyes when his hand cupped her cheek and he moved in for a soft kiss. It was quickly followed by another before another, more urgent claim on her mouth left her bottom lip sucked into the clutches of his teeth. He bit down, hard enough to elicit a soft yelp of pain but not hard enough to break the skin. Her hand shot up to her bottom lip as he pulled back. Her surprise obvious, he leaned forward and whispered, "A man can only take so much, Miss Granger. That lip has been begging to be tamed."

Pulling back, he grinned shamelessly. "Come, pet. That delectable ass of yours needs taming as well." He swatted her bottom and demanded, "On the bed, now."

Hermione was surprised by Lucius and his almost predatory-like behavior. It was a different flavor from her Master that was hardly unwelcome, yet very different from the emotionally reserved Dominance he had been displaying the past several weeks. He was playful and even occasionally flirtatious during their Sunday evening get togethers, but he had slowly become more distant and formal – one might even say strict – during their sessions. Hermione felt it was because she was progressing with her training and he was giving her a taste of what she might expect from some Dominants and possibly even from Severus. Sometimes it was a turn-on, other times she wanted the familiar Lucius who was sexy and demanding, but not distant. Her Master, instead of A Master.

Tonight, in just the past few minutes, he was something else entirely…needy and possessive. A niggling tug at the recesses of her brain questioned the source of his behavior and her reaction to it. She dismissed it instantly. He was her Master and they shared a great sexual chemistry and affection for each other. That was all.

The bed was tall, so she had to turn her back towards it and hoist herself up. It was anything but sexy or graceful and all the pride of her earlier sexual prowess went out the window when Lucius chuckled. He on the other hand, merely slid on the bed with lissom ease. "Hmm, I'll have Tinny provide you with a lady's stepping stool," he went on to say, amusement rich in his eyes.

His mirth was short lived however and Hermione once again felt like the main course at a starving man's banquet when Lucius looked at her with carnivorous intent _. He must really like buggering_. Perhaps it was a touch of fear or perhaps it was a touch of nervous hysteria, but Hermione suddenly found humor in her thought and burst into a fit of laughter that left her eyes watering and her hands clutching her sides as she struggled to breathe.

"And what, pray tell, has left you to abandon your facilities at such a moment?"

Slowly regaining her control, her eyes met his finding them less concerned than playfully curious. His lips twitched as he tried to suppress his own hilarity which was surely a contagious reaction to her own. Unable to resist, she slithered towards him and captured his mouth with her own. The kiss was playful, and she quickly found herself tossed onto her back as his fingers found congress tickling her sides causing her to squeal with painful delight. His lips proceeded to plant kisses on her cheeks, forehead and neck as he teased, his body preventing her escape. "Hmm, your fit of giggles is a mystery, yet I find myself quite addicted to them."

Her words were gasping as she sought lungsful of air while his fingers slowed their assault, "Luc…Lucius! Please…."

"Ah, I do so like it when you beg, my dear," he whispered hungrily as his mouth found purchase on her right nipple where his teeth clamped down just shy of painfully.

"Fuck," she growled as his attentions continued to focus on her sensitive buds. He pressed her breasts together as his tongue laved luxuriously from one peak to the other. Her fingers tangled into his silky, thick blond locks and her nails scraped his scalp.

His right hand grasped first one wrist and then the other. A whispered incantation and both wrists were tugged above her head where they were pinned by an unidentifiable force. His hands now free, they wrapped around her petite rib cage, his thumbs flicking her rosy bullets as his palms massaged her sides and his fingers her back. Her body arched in gluttonous need as his lips ravenously trailed to her navel. A soft whine escaped her trembling lips as his hands skimmed down her sides and crept to her hips.

"Oh, Gods," she keened when his mouth skimmed her folds before kissing the tender skin where her inner left thigh met her groin. His strong hands with their long, lithe fingers made light work of grasping under her legs and flipping them up and over her torso, leaving her knees pressed against her ears and her bottom up in the air before him, a platter for the taking. Lucius had many times commented on how limber she was and in turn made a point of enjoying her body in positions she had never imagined.

Hermione would have rocketed out of the bed had she not been restrained by his strong grip, as well as the enchantment on her wrists, when his tongue scandalously violated her puckered hole. A lewd and desperate rasp escaped her lips as his tongue plundered her most sinfully. She had never felt more deliciously depraved than in this moment.

"Oh, yes! Fuck!" she cried out, her voice choked as her eyes rolled uncontrollably, gazing without sight at the ceiling above. Her mouth fell open as her breathing came in short pants. His assault continued mercilessly, his tongue an expert at its current occupation. The coil within was twisting and tightening, her release so close.

"Mmm, pet," he mewled, "such a wicked little witch to enjoy having her arse licked so perversely. You're my little slut, aren't you?"

A strangled whimper was all she could manage when his mouth suddenly clamped on her clit. Hermione saw stars as her orgasm shot her into the milky way, leaving her floating without a gravitational pull back to earth.

It could have been seconds, it could have been minutes, it could have been a day. "Breathe, pet. Breathe." Hermione could hear the whispered words yet could not fathom their meaning. As she slowly regained conscious comprehension, she felt her hands released from their restraint as Lucius sinuously slid behind her. Rolling her to her left side, he wrapped her like a cocoon in his comforting limbs. Her head lolled back and rested against his shoulder, his upper body supported by his left forearm against the mattress. His breath tickled her ear as he whispered villainous words that caused a tingle of anticipation to tickle her belly. "I'm going to fuck your arse now, Miss Granger."

Her body was languid and loose from her orgasm and she merely sighed as a strong hand lifted her right leg, pulling it back to drape over his thigh. A mumbled word from behind her resulted in a soft vibration over her clit. The intensity was minimal but her tender nerve bundle shuddered from the stimulation and her back arched, pressing her bottom into a very hard erection. Long, warm fingers rubbed her sopping folds as deviant words caused her breath to hitch. "Mmm, your pussy's nectar is straight from Eden."

The fingers, now dripping, moved to her rear entrance which was already wet from Lucius' talented tongue and mouth. Hermione avariciously arched her back further, a soft whine falling from her mouth as his slender digits supplely teased her rear opening with her own juices. Another unintelligible whisper from behind caused the intensity of the vibrations on her clit to increase. "Gah…Fuck me!" She squealed, as she wantonly rubbed her nub against the blissful tremor.

"Yes, I intend to," he whispered from behind her with a light chuckle. She could feel him shift and then a cool gel was smothered over her entrance before the sloppy sound of slathering and stroking his cock caused her to swallow nervously. The reality that this was finally happening causing her heart to race.

His voice was no longer sultry and teasing but commanding while somehow remaining soft and comforting. "You will tell me to stop if it becomes too much. This will be slow. You need to breathe, Doll."

She took a deep breath as she felt the pressure of a finger press into her slowly. It was smaller than her current plug and while stimulating, was not uncomfortable. The pressure of a second finger working its way in caused a rush of heat and she could feel her brow begin to sweat. A third finger left her panting and his hand stilled when she let out a soft, needy sob.

"It's ok, love. I've got you. Breathe."

His fingers suddenly abandoned her as she felt him shift and press his cock against the now needy orifice.

"Breathe, Hermione. Here we go." Pressure. Intense pressure. "Push, pet. Bear down."

"Oh, Merlin," she whispered nervously as she followed his instruction. It was the same instruction he had given with every plug insertion. She felt a stab of sharp pain as he pressed forward slightly, the mushroom tip of his cock pushing past her tight outer ring. "Oh…ouch. Ohhhh." Her lip quivered from the pain as well as from the intensity. A small part of her wanted him to stop, maybe she didn't want this after all, but she was determined and wanted to see this through.

Lucius wasn't sure if he was talking to her or himself as he once again demanded. "Breathe, breathe." She was so petite and so tight, it was a struggle not to plow into her inviting heat.

She swallowed and took a deep breath feeling her body slowly adjust to the intrusion. He was definitely bigger than the current plug she was using. He didn't move, and the pain dissipated slowly. His left hand rested on her forehead, stroking the sweat-tinged strands back soothingly. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head as another whisper caused the vibration on her clit to intensify. She felt an ignition of intense pleasure as the vibration caused her to grind her hips, increasing the stimulation animalistically and without conscious intent. More pressure from behind as she felt his girth slide in a little further before he paused once again.

Lucius' voice was coarse, his words almost winded. "Such a good girl, taking her Master's cock in such a naughty way."

No longer feeling pain so much as intense pressure and a bit of soreness, she couldn't resist the temptation of the delectable vibration on her nub or the sinful filling of her arse. She began to rock her pelvis forward and back, his hardness pressing further into her as the opposing vibration caused her to moan. "Easy," he whispered, his own control on the verge of slipping.

"More," she mewled. "Lucius, more." The pain was continuing to ebb, and her hips continued to move back and forth wantonly. The vibration was heaven and hell at the same time as her arousal could not be contained and her hips seemed to move of their own accord. Hermione began to cry out it desperate need, wanting to be filled. Craving it fervently. "Do it! Fuck me!"

Following her lead, yet not wanting to hurt her, Lucius pressed further into her heat as gently as possible, only to have her press back against him, sliding him further in. He couldn't contain his own breathy moan as his vision clouded. His breath caught in his throat as euphoria caused his eyes to roll. "Merlin and Morgana, witch."

Hermione lost all semblance of control when the vibration on her clit suddenly accelerated to the point of abandon. It was like a mini jack-hammer had been set loose on her nub.

Two words were her undoing. "Come, witch." A carnal scream escaped as her pussy quivered and pulsed while at the same time Lucius pushed against her, sheathing himself completely. As her walls pulsed and milked him with abandon, he slowly pulled back before inching forward once again. It took every ounce of control not to completely lose himself.

Hermione felt herself rocking, the aftershocks of her orgasm still causing her folds to quiver. The vibration stopped and all she felt was fullness as Lucius stilled. After a couple seconds he began slowly moving in and out, while never pulling out completely. As his speed increased, Hermione groaned. It felt divine, raw, hedonistic, and somehow empowering. Her leg had long fallen forward from his thigh and his hand was on her hip as his speed increased. His bollocks slapped against her folds with each thrust, the sound adding to her sense of divine depravity. "Go...ods...Lu...cius," her voice pipped out in small breathy mewls, matching the rhythm of his hips.

A sharp intake of breath accompanied by the feel of his slight swell within her was all her warning before he pulled out quickly and erupted his seed all over her lower back. His abrupt exit left her feeling empty and she let out a sad moan as she slowly pushed her legs out into a small stretch. Her brain only seemed capable of articulating one word. "Wow."

* * *

It was an unusually warm, calm day for March in the UK and the Weasley family was definitely taking advantage of the weather to celebrate the newest little bundle that had arrived the previous week. Percy and his wife Audrey welcomed their first child, a baby girl which they honored with the namesake Molly Ginevra after her grandmother and aunt.

"HG!" an obviously pregnant Ginny bellowed from across the lawn. Hermione's attention flickered to her friend but was instantly pulled to Ron's twins and James who were wrestling on the damp ground as she pushed through the white picket gate.

"Hey Gin!" Hermione couldn't help the joyful grin as she watched her Godson and "nephews" roll in the mud. "Thank goodness for magical cleaning and drying charms, yeah?" she teased as she reached the trio who cried their hellos to Hermione before dashing off only to tumble off into a different muddy spot of the yard.

"No kidding!" Ginny laughed, rubbing her forehead with one hand while she observed the rambunctious tots. "Otherwise it would be … what?"

"Stripping them down for a bath and treating the mud stains on their clothing." Hermione giggled when Ginny shuddered at the image her words most likely invoked.

At that moment, Harry came out of the house followed by Ron. Both were holding their wands aloft as bowls of food floated above them. Garlic bread, mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, yum! "You made it!" Ron called to her.

"Wouldn't miss it!" Hermione agreed. "A new little one is certainly something to celebrate!"

"Here-here!" Bill raised a butterbeer from the other end of the table where he was sitting with the new parents while Audrey burped Molly II.

"Speaking of celebrating." Ginny's voice was low and at a conversational level. "How long have you and Snape been dating now?"

Hermione felt a blush rise to her cheeks. "Today's the…eleventh?" Ginny nodded. "We've officially hit nine weeks then."

"And it's going well?" This statement came in the form of a lackadaisical song and Hermione turned to see Luna waddling up to her.

"Hey, you!" Hermione said affectionately, wrapping and arm around Luna's back and giving her an awkward hug. Awkward because of how big her belly had gotten. "You look great! Where are you at?"

"Thirty-two weeks," Luna said offhandedly before refocusing on her curly-haired friend. "How's it going with Severus?"

Ginny shuddered, wrinkling her nose. "Gah! Don't call him that, Luna!"

"What? By his name?" Hermione snorted at Ginny's look of discomfort. "It is his name, Ginny. What…do you think I go around calling him Professor Snape?"

Ginny paused for a moment in consideration. "Well…I guess it depends on how kinky you two like to get…huh?"

Hermione felt her face flush and was positive she turned crimson in under a second. "Oooh! I can tell there's a story there… _dish_!" Ginny exclaimed.

"No," Hermione said simply. "There's no story. We haven't slept with each other since we've been dating."

Luna and Ginny both looked at her in surprise. "Seriously?" Ginny squeaked.

"Seriously," Hermione answered. "We've both struggled with relationships and we got off on the wrong foot before Christmas. We're taking it slow."

Luna wrinkled her brows in confusion. "Are you sleeping with the regal man then, 'Mione? Because I've been seeing some pretty steamy sex for you."

"Excuse me?" Hermione's heartrate instantly tripled. Crap on a cracker! The clairvoyant Luna Weasley nèe Lovegood strikes again!

Hermione's cheeks heated, and she couldn't keep flashes of her scene from Friday night from flooding her mind. Lucius had charmed a dildo to gently take her pussy while he had fucked her bum from behind. Chained spread eagle to a beam above and a pallet below, he had also bound her breasts and put a horse bit in her mouth. Hermione had orgasmed three times in less than twenty minutes while Lucius spilled filthy words in her ears. She shuddered at the memory of him climaxing in her arse as her third orgasm hit with his teeth buried in her neck to muffle his shouts. (Hence the reason for her high neck sweater and the added protection of a flowy, printed scarf to her outfit today. She was beyond letting him heal the marks he left on her as she cherished every single one.) It had been a very, very intense night. Immediately after, she had told him she wanted to do that again with two men – and soon. He had laughed heartily and kissed her soundly as he'd rubbed feeling back into her arms.

"Well..." The blonde looked at Hermione carefully and then shrugged. Hermione could read in her friend's face that Luna realized she had said something she shouldn't have. "Maybe I'm not quite right," she said in her faraway voice. "My pregnancy throws things off sometimes." Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as Ginny's face fell with her disappointment. Perhaps she could confide in Luna…Luna was so completely unjudgmental.

"Come sit, Gin!" Harry demanded. "You need to get off your feet."

"You too, Lu!" Ron agreed sweetly.

The girls all made their way to the end of the table, settling down around the Weasley's already in place. Hermione sat next to Fleur, Bill was to Fleur's right and Audrey and Percy were across from them. Within touching distance was Ron, Harry, Ginny, Luna, George, and Angelina, and Arthur and Molly settled on the other side of them. The kids were hoisted in between parents with sticking and booster charms on their bums to prevent them from getting down or falling while putting them at the right height to eat comfortably. Hermione took charge of little James while Harry and Ron took Albus, Ares, and Apollo between them so Luna and Ginny could focus on eating for once. Just then, Molly made her way from the kitchen with two huge platters of roasted chicken pieces.

Food, wine, and conversation flowed merrily as the group talked loudly over each other. Everyone was laughing and sharing stories from kids or work. Hermione stayed quiet, soaking it all in, she was happy to just be a part of such a wonderful family.

"What about your new man, Hermione?" Fleur teased after a while. Hermione felt her face instantly go scarlet. Leave it to Fleur to ask such a question when everyone was mostly silent and focused on their food.

"You mean her _old_ man?" Ginny quipped, but immediately ducked her head when Hermione threw her a venomous glare.

"I didn't know you were seeing anyone!" Molly exclaimed from the far end of the table. "Is he much older than you?"

Harry and Ron started snickering and Hermione was not blind to the bemused looks she was getting from the people at the table who obviously didn't know who she was dating. She cleared her throat and started to speak, but her voice came out in a squeak. She closed her eyes for a moment. _You are twenty-seven years old. You are a grown woman with a successful attorney practice. Do not let this group of redheads intimidate you._

"Yes, Molly," she said carefully. "He is a bit older than I am," she paused and swallowed nervously, avoiding the curious eyes of those who were unaware of her dating life. "Severus Snape and I have been dating for a little over two months, now."

Silence.

Somehow, even the children knew to be quiet.

Hermione felt the heat of her cheeks grow hotter as she took in the stunned surprise of … well, of mostly the Weasley men (outside of Ron – who had already known). Molly, bless her, only let the uncomfortable silence go on for about two second before she said. "Oh, really? How wonderful! How is Severus?"

It was like a collective sigh had happened and the din of eating resumed while Hermione hesitantly answered questions. Angelina and George kept looking at her with partly gaping mouths as she spoke of Snape fondly and with obvious affection. She saw Percy and Bill exchange concerned looks as well, and felt her hackles rise.

While she was having a side conversation with Ginny and Luna about when they'd like to shop for the upcoming Victory Ball at the Ministry on May second, and whether or not she thought Snape would take her, she overheard Percy and Bill hissing to Harry.

"You're letting her see him?" Bill said.

"Aren't you concerned he's done something to her? I mean…" Percy trailed off, shaking his head slightly. "Look at her and think of him. How does a bloke like that get a bird like her?"

"Bill and Percy Weasley! Harry is _not_ my father, and neither are any of you lot!" Hermione snapped, not able to take any more of their hushed conversation. Did they _really_ think she couldn't hear them? "I'll have you know that this bird went after that bloke and not the other way around. Severus Snape is an intelligent, sophisticated man," _with the cock the size of a large cucumber and a penchant for tying me up just how I like it,_ "and is very good to me!"

She huffed before continuing, "And I've already told the boys," she glanced pointedly at Ron and Harry – who grimaced, "that he has a voice that makes me want to howl at the moon – " George started choking on his water while Bill's face contorted into a grimace of disgust and Arthur and Molly both burst into giggles. Hermione almost started laughing herself when she noticed Angelina's contemplative face before she cocked her head to the side and gave a slight shrug and nod that told Hermione the girl understood what she was talking about. "So, unless you _really_ want me to get detailed as to what –"

She was interrupted again by Percy sputtering, "No, no! We're good. Aren't we, Bill?" Percy's face was beat red face and Bill was nodding furiously.

"Good," Hermione said firmly.

Ginny had followed the whole exchange with a shit-eating grin on her face. "Gods, I love it when you boys get HG going like that. She's something when that lawyer voice gets whipped out, isn't she?" She laughed when her brothers mumbled their agreement.

"Hermione, dear?" Molly called from the end of the table while other conversations started to pick back up now that Hermione's little outburst was over.

"Yes, Molly?"

"I'd really like for you to bring Severus for Easter; do you think he'll be willing?" The matriarch's face was bright with her earnest and Hermione's stomach flipped.

 _Would Severus come to my family's Easter celebration?_ She didn't know but somehow doubted he'd be enthusiastic about it. "I'll ask him, and owl you if that's all right?"

"Of course, dear."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: IF YOU PLAN TO FOLLOW THIS STORY TO THE END, PLEASE READ THIS.
> 
> First - sorry this AN is super long, but what we have to say is important if you wish to continue this story and not get lost. After a lot of thought and consideration, Snowblind12 and LissaDream have decided to split this into a trilogy. Chapter 31 will be the last the in the first installment that we are dubbing the Master Mine series. We've decided to do this simply because of the enormity it has grown into. With what we have planned, we can safely say that this trilogy will be well over 700k words and 1,500 pages. As of the end of Chapter 26 we have reached 493 pages and 228,542 words. Our average chapter size is 8,750 words. So ... yeah.
> 
> The first book will be entitled Master Mine: A Lesson in Submission (MMS) – as you may have noted with the recent title change, the second Master Mine: A Lesson in Love (MML), and the third Master Mine: A Lesson in Forever (MMF).
> 
> Be sure to watch closely in order to follow the next installment.
> 
> Thank you all for the amazing support and excitement for this story that we are so devoted to and humbled to share with you. All our love! ~Lissa & Snow


	28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

* * *

  **BETA: Raynephoenix2**

* * *

It was really quite something…something Draco hadn't ever thought possible. Severus Snape, at the Manor, _with a date_! The muggle game Granger had convinced him to play earlier in the week popped into his head. Colonel Mustard, in the library, with the candlestick. Brushing the odd thought aside, he watched the anomaly before him. He wondered in amusement if perhaps the sun would rise from the West in the morning.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise, it's not like he didn't know Granger and Snape were dating, but somehow knowing about a thing didn't always equate to seeing it. There they were, though, sitting beside each other on the sofa. Hermione was leaning into him, bestowing soft touches which Snape wasn't swatting away or scowling about. It was surreal. In his entire life, Draco had never seen Snape with a woman who wasn't with him as his submissive, and the man had certainly never brought a woman to the Manor.

Because Hermione and Snape were on the sofa, Draco found himself sitting in the chair Snape normally occupied. It was a simple thing, yet it was something else that added to the strangeness of the evening. Bilby flitted amongst them, refilling their drinks and it did not escape Draco's notice that Lucius was on his third while everyone else was on their second. It also did not escape his notice how his father kept a discerning eye on the couple, although Draco was pleased to find his father more contemplative than anything. Then again, Draco was well aware Lucius was a master at disguising his emotions when needed. Years servicing a sadistic and mercurial megalomaniac had secured that particular talent. However, Lucius seemed to be in a good mood, exercising his typical social savoir faire.

Taking a large swallow and then setting his glass down, the older Malfoy stood. "So, I have something for us to enjoy this evening."

Hermione and Severus exchanged curious glances. Peering back at his best friend, Severus offered a closed mouthed smile. "Ah, Lucius. You look positively delighted with yourself, but then again you always look that way."

"Oh, Severus stop!" Hermione teased, playfully slapping his chest; a warm and firm chest she was currently nestled into. His left arm was draped lazily around her, holding her close.

Lucius dismissively chortled and gave her a playful grin. "Don't concern yourself, pet. Severus is merely jealous that I possess a modicum more charm than that of a gutter rat, which is more than he can claim."

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked to Draco. "Are they always like this?"

Draco nodded. "Pretty much."

Hermione couldn't contain her giggle. Her mood was buoyant and her worries light as she basked in the company of the three men. The second glass of wine was certainly contributing her high as well. "Well, I for one am interested in what the reveal is, so Lucius please continue." Her eyes suddenly drew cautious and she pushed herself gently to sit up straight. "Unless…Unless this 'thing' you have for us to enjoy is at my expense. I still can't believe you made me wear a chastity belt to lunch!"

A choking cough drew all eyes to the younger Malfoy. "Chastity belt?" His eyes darted quickly from Hermione to Lucius. "Really?"

Lucius merely shrugged. Severus pulled Hermione back to his side as Draco looked reproachfully at her and spoke with a tone of accusation. "How did you not tell me about this?"

"Well, I just didn't – "

"Where's the pensieve? I've got to see this!" He demanded, looking at his father.

"No! No, no, no, no!" Her eyes turned to Lucius. "Limits, Lucius. There need to be limits!"

Lucius laughed, "Ah pet. I would never share a pensieve memory of anything we've done without your consent."

Draco's face fell in obvious disappointment.

Unable to resist, Severus goaded, "It was very minimal, Draco. More like a scrap of metal than a full, traditional belt."

Hermione's face fell into her hands and Lucius and Severus were chuckling in their shared amusement

Draco looked to Severus and then at Hermione, shaking his head, "Honestly, Granger. I thought we were friends."

Her eyes shot up to his. "Yes, Draco. We are. Friends! Friends do not show each other pensieve memories of their most humiliating moments. Especially when it involves practically naked bits!"

"Those are the best ones to share!" He retorted indignantly.

Hermione let out a huff. "Can we please move the conversation away from its current course. I would like to at least pretend I'm not surrounded by three men who have each… Oh never mind."

Lucius cocked a brow at her, his eyes alight with mirth. "This was your doing, pet. I merely stated I had something to share and you turned it towards its current path."

"Yes, a mistake I will endeavor to not make again," she proclaimed.

Severus sniggered lightly as he whispered soft words that sent shivers directly to her aforementioned bits. "I think you secretly love this predicament, little one. Surrounded by three men who have each…had you. The potential for any number of scenarios to play out. You can pretend all you like, but I venture the other two men in this room know it also to be a fact."

Hermione felt heat fill her face as the truth of his words sunk in. He was right, _of course_ he was right, but it didn't mean she wanted to acknowledge it. Not here. Not now. She looked to her Dominant to find his knowing eyes on her. This only made her heart thrum faster. It was as though Lucius and Severus had attended a class; _Hermione Granger 101 – an in-depth course focusing on the depravity behind the curls_. Her quick glance at Draco found him nodding with a small grin. Clearly Severus' words had been heard by all.

"Please. Can we _please_ change the topic?" Her voice was slightly panicked as her desperate eyes looked to her Dominant, begging for a rescue.

Lucius' gaze warmed, and he held his hand out to her. "Come. Let's go outside. What I have to show you all is off the back patio."

Hermione quickly leapt from Severus' hold and approached Lucius, taking his hand. "Thank you, Lucius." She looked back at Severus and stuck her tongue out playfully.

His penetrating eyes sent a spark of heat to her nether regions. Eyes that she had a feeling would not forget this conversation. When she was his…when that day came… would he remember it then? Would she pay a price? Smiling coquettishly, she reached her other hand out to him.

Severus considered her quick escape to the Dominant who seemed obliged to rescue her _._ He had briefly wondered if Lucius would encourage a different course. It would have been child's play to convince her after all. However, with Draco present, it would be highly unlikely Lucius would go there.

As she held her hand out toward him, clearly feeling safe from Lucius' unfortunate assistance, Severus shook his head with light reprove. _Enjoy it now, witch_. He leaned forward and took her hand as Lucius released her other one in a nonchalant fashion. Lucius stepped ahead of the group and lead them out of the study.

Hermione felt as though she might have gotten away with something as Severus' fingers wove through hers and his thumb gently rubbing the back of her hand. She nuzzled her cheek against his arm affectionately which earned her a quick glance from his beautiful, dark eyes. He kissed the top of her head and she let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

As they stepped onto the back patio, Draco cast a warming charm as they approached a large brick structure that had not been there earlier in the week. As the four moved closer, Lucius looked back at Hermione, curious if she knew what it was. He was rewarded when her eyes grew large. "Lucius!" she squealed with merriment. "You've built a pizza oven!"

When they were back inside, Lucius led them not to the formal dining room as was his custom, but to the delightful windowed, breakfast room which was now set out for dinner. This was her favorite room to dine in because of the windows and the view, but she had never eaten dinner out here. It being nighttime, the vision was of a vast dark sky with a spattering of stars and a bright quarter moon. The windows were charmed to not reflect the interior light or their own images. It was as clear as if they were standing in an unlighted room looking out.

The four sat around the smaller table and Hermione enjoyed the informality of it. Wine was shared, laughs were had, and soft, teasing touches under the table from her lover kept her cheeks flushed. The pizza was amazing with fresh tomato, basil, and mozzarella. The crust was light and melted on her tongue. Lucius had sent Bilby to Venice to learn the finer art of authentic Italian cuisine and the little elf had perfected his skills so resolutely that Severus became intrigued with expanding the bar menu at _The Dungeon_.

As Lucius, Severus, and Draco discussed the possibilities, Hermione forewent forging an opinion. She found herself instead drawn to the expressive eyes and laugh lines as well as the glances and touches that were exchanged about the table. Touches such as manly shoulder grasps as they laughed together, clinking of glasses as they toasted grand schemes (which grew more exorbitant as the wine flowed). There were also playful and excited glances from Draco, protective and assessing glances from Lucius, who was always making sure she was warm enough and that her glass was filled. Meanwhile Severus' glances held something else entirely, something that made her wish for nothing more than to have this man take her home and ravish her.

Alas, it was not to be. Bedroom eyes became sleepy eyes and as midnight approached she began to wonder if she would have to levitate the wizard home. It was then that she found out Severus had his own suite at the Manor as well. For instead of flooing home, Lucius had insisted they all stay. Assuming she and Severus would sleep in her suite, she was surprised when she was led down a different hallway to another suite entirely.

Severus' suite was every bit as grand as hers and she was surprised to find her favorite sleep shirt and shorts clean and waiting for her on the bed. She spotted the clothing and looked back at the blond wizard standing in the doorway to find him smiling, although there was something else behind his eyes she couldn't quite place.

He smiled and cocked his brow at her. "Don't look so surprised pet, I'll always provide what you need." He looked from Hermione to Severus, who was undressing with a touch of difficulty and back to Hermione. "I will bid you both a good night. See you at breakfast."

* * *

"Ginny?!" Hermione called as she opened the door to Grimmauld place. "You ready?" She and Ginny had planned a little excursion into Diagon Alley to look for gowns for the upcoming Victory Ball. Luna was busy at her shop today and had told them to go on without her, she had already seen the dress she would wear and just had to pick it up.

"Hey, 'Mione." Harry was coming down the stairs holding a sleepy looking Albus. The tot gave her a wobbly smile before his sweet little mouth formed a perfect O with a deep yawn and settle his face into the crook of Harry's neck.

"Hi, Harry." Hermione smiled as she met him at the bottom of the stairs, kissing his cheek affectionately before pressing her lips to the messy black hair of the child he was holding. "You tired, Al?" she whispered affectionately, smoothing her hand over his back.

The little guy didn't deign her with a response (he was only fourteen months old and didn't talk much yet) and she and Harry exchanged conspiratorial smiles. Goodness, she loved this man. Even more so when he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and led her to the kitchen.

"How's it going?" he asked softly. Hermione leaned into his side and tilted her head, so it rested on his shoulder.

"It's going well," she murmured.

"He ask you yet?" Harry was referring to Snape, of course. All her friends were curious if he would take her to the Victory Ball in May.

"You know, it's a bit away yet. It's only mid-March," she answered with a sigh. "He has time."

"Well, he went last year, right?" Harry released her when they found Ginny and James in the kitchen. He passed the almost asleep Albus to his wife.

"He did." Hermione watched Ginny snuggle the baby into her arms.

"I'll be right back," she told Hermione. "I just need to lay him down. He's a stinker when it comes to naps unless I do it."

"No rush, Gin," she assured her friend before continuing sarcastically. "You know how much I love dress shopping."

"Oh, enough," Ginny teased.

"I wouldn't be worried then, 'Mione. He'll ask," Harry continued with their conversation as he filled the tea kettle. There was a loud _crack!_ that made everyone jump as Kreacher popped into view.

"I's be doing that, Master," the elf insisted, snapping his fingers so the pot disappeared from Harry's hands.

"Thank you, Kreacher," Harry said warmly.

"Master is welcome." The elf turned to Hermione. "Would Missy Hermione be wanting tea?"

"No thank you, Kreacher."

"Hi Aunty Mimi," James said when silence fell for the first time since they had entered the kitchen.

"Did you hear something, Harry?" Hermione tilted her head, a small smirk crossing her face.

"It was me, Aunty Mimi!" James giggled.

"Oh! I think I did hear something!" Harry caught onto the game quickly which made the almost three-year-old laugh harder.

"It sounds like a sweet little boy!" Hermione exclaimed. "Is that my James?" She pretended to look around the room for him.

"It is! I'm here! I'm here!" The boy wiggled in his seat, his lunch laying forgotten as he raised his hand.

"You know…James disappeared about an hour ago, and we couldn't find him," Harry answered contemplatively. "I do suppose it could be him!"

"It is me, Daddy!" James crowed, delighted with the teasing. He wiggled down from his booster seat and threw himself at Harry's knees, wrapping his little arms around them tight.

"There he is!" Hermione burst into her own fit of giggles as Harry scooped up the boy who was his spitting image. He gave him a light toss in the air, catching him around his belly and tickling the pudgy skin while James squealed with delight.

"Do you have a kiss for Aunty Mimi?" Harry asked once everyone had calmed down.

"Yes!" James lunged from Harry's arms into Hermione's open ones and planted a wet, sloppy kiss on her cheek before looping his arms around her neck and squeezing tight. The movement caused the child's head to bounce painfully off her jaw, but she was oblivious as the warmth of his hug filled her chest. She enfolded him tightly to her.

After a moment, he leaned back in her arms and started chattering a mile a minute, his face animated. She was only able to catch one out of every two or three words but did so with a big smile on her face and lots of appropriate exclamations and agreements. When Ginny entered the room a few minutes later, Harry was sitting at the table sipping his tea and Hermione had James back in his booster working on the remainder of his lunch.

"Ready, HG?"

"You bet, Gin," she returned before pressing one final kiss to James' head. "Love you, godson," she whispered in his ear.

"Love you, Mimi," he told her around a big bite of a strawberry jam sandwich. She ruffled his hair fondly before dropping a kiss on Harry's cheek.

"See you soon, Hermione," Harry told her before Ginny claimed his mouth with a quick goodbye kiss.

"Give me until five," Ginny said. "I'll be home by then at the latest."

"I've got this, Ginny." He smirked at her. "James and I will take a nap together when we're done with lunch."

"Ha!" Ginny sniggered. "Good luck with that. He hasn't taken a nap all week." When Harry's complexion paled slightly, she laughed louder before hooking her arm through Hermione's. "Let's get out of here before he changes his mind and asks to take you dress shopping instead. He might think it's the lesser of two evils."

Hermione threw an amused glance over her shoulder to find father and son eyeing each other up like old rivals. The funniest part of the whole thing was Hermione would put her money on the three-year-old.

Ginny and Hermione Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron and magicked their way into Diagon Alley. They popped in to say hello to Luna before stopping at a new little café that had recently opened for lunch. Madam Malkin's was a bust for Hermione, but Ginny found two gowns there that draped over the swell of her pregnancy beautifully and brought out her eyes and hair.

"I'm sure we'll find something at Twilfitt and Tatting's," Ginny promised as they pushed their way out of the shop. "You have such a beautiful figure, I don't know why we always have such a hard time finding something for you." This was said with a jealous longing which made Hermione feel a twinge of her own jealousy. She would swap places with Ginny in a heartbeat if that meant she had her own little bundle on the way. She sighed, pushing the thought back.

"It's because I'm so tiny." She shrugged. "Short is maybe a better word."

"You are that," Ginny teased as she playfully rested her elbow on her friend's shoulder.

"Knock it off," Hermione giggled, nudging Ginny in the side.

"If we don't find something here," Ginny said softly as they opened the door at Twilfitt and Tatting's, "we'll go to Gladrag's in Hogsmeade."

"Sounds like a plan," Hermione harrumphed as she let her eyes scan the shop.

"You go strip, I'll start bringing options."

Thirty minutes later, they were no closer to finding her a dress and Hermione's frustration was growing. "Remember, we can always change the color," Ginny was saying as Hermione twisted and turned in the mirror. She was wearing a tight black gown that was encrusted with black crystals around the neck line. It was overwhelmingly gaudy.

"Ginny, maybe we should go to Muggle-London," Hermione said. "I've just…I never feel right in wizarding styles."

"You're being silly," Ginny called back. "Hey – the sale girl just told me they have a rack in the back that just came in. I'm gonna go look. I'll be right back!"

"Okay, I'll try this last one on and be ready when you come back."

Hermione turned back towards the mirror as she pulled off the black robe and hung it back on its hanger. Just as she was about to reach for a purple robe, there was a knock on her door. "That was fast," she muttered before raising her voice. "C'mon in, Gin, it's unlocked. Did you find anything you liked?" Hermione didn't even turn to see the redhead reenter.

"I did find something, something I like very much." The deep rumbled baritone startled her, and she gave a small yip of surprise when she met black eyes in the mirror.

"Severus!" she exclaimed quietly. In her surprise, her arms instantly came up to hide her state of undress.

"Hiding? No…that won't do." She watched in the mirror as he slowly locked the dressing room door before turning to face him, her eyes wide. Snape stalked her, backing her into the far corner of the little box, making sure their feet would be hidden from the gap below the door. His mouth descended on hers and she hummed into his kiss, shuddering as his hands slid up her arms. The gown she had been contemplating lay in a heap on the dressing room bench as all the blood in her veins started singing at his proximity.

"What are you doing here?" she panted lightly when his lips moved to her jaw and under her ear. He pressed gentle, open-mouthed kisses against her skin.

"Shopping." It was an off handed statement.

"Oh," she moaned quietly when his mouth trailed down the side of her neck and before they veered to the valley between her breasts.

"'Mione?" Ginny called. Hermione jumped at the sound of her friend's voice and felt a tingle of apprehension flow through her when Snape gave her a wicked smile. Before she could protest (not that she had any inclination to do so, she was thrilled with this little impromptu meeting) he slid his fingers past the waist band of her knickers to part her lower lips.

"Ye-es?" She did her best to control her voice, but the word still came out with a bit of a squeak attached.

"They have a whole slew of gowns back there that are gorgeous. Tell me what your favorite color is I'll bring you a few."

Hermione was concentrating hard on Ginny's words, so she would be able to answer but Snape's fingers were now working quickly over her clit making her brain useless. His eyes bore hotly into hers, and she struggled to find words while in the vast recesses of her mind she realized he was enjoying himself immensely. She panted quietly as her nails bit into his biceps.

"Blue!" It wasn't even remotely her favorite color, just the first one that came to mind.

"Navy? Ravenclaw blue? Royal blue?" Ginny continued her line of questioning.

If the leer on Snape's face was anything to go by, he knew exactly what he was doing to her. This was the least vanilla thing they had done since that wonderful night she had stayed with him in his flat at _The Dungeon_ back in November and he was driving her barmy. Thank Godric they had gotten past that fallout.

She whimpered before clearing her throat and calling out, "Both! I mean – all!" Her voice hitched and there was a pause where Snape's soft chuckle ghosted over her ear.

"Anything in blue, Ginny. I'll try them all! I'm pretty much desp…oh, desperate at this point!" She had been pleased that her voice had sounded more controlled at the beginning, but then her wizard had delved deeper to collect more moisture from her pussy opening before spreading it back up to frig her clit. The pace was painfully pleasurable.

"You okay? You sound a little breathless," Ginny asked concernedly. She was much closer to the dressing room this time and Hermione's stomach plummeted alarmingly and her knees began to tremble.

"I'm fine!" She forced her voice to be stronger this time.

"Okay! I'll be right back!"

Hermione held her breath that Ginny would actually leave while trying not to fall apart under her lover's fingers as they continued to torment her. "What are you trying to do to me?" she murmured roughly, her head falling back against the wooden wall of the changing room.

"Drive you mental," he answered with a wicked grin once they were no longer distracted. His digits slipped back down again, this time sliding up into her cunt as he scissored his fingers inside her.

"Oh, fuck, Severus," she breathed.

"How close are you?"

"Very…" she moaned softly.

"'Mione!" Ginny's voice was much further away this time and Hermione had to take a deep breath before answering.

"Yeah?" she shouted before her head fell to Snape's shoulder, he had brought his attention back to her clit and the trembling of her legs intensified. She was going to shatter at any moment. "Oh, gods, Severus."

Ginny was talking again, but she wasn't taking in the words because Snape was whispering in her ear. "What brings you to Twilfitt and Tattings on this fine Sunday afternoon?"

"Grocery s-shopping," she arched an eyebrow at him sarcastically even as she stumbled over her words.

"Hermione?" It was Ginny again and she clenched her teeth as the distraction of her friend put her impending orgasm off just a bit.

"Give me a sec!" Hermione called back before letting out a little yip as Snape smacked her bottom lightly. Apparently, her sarcasm wasn't going to be tolerated.

"Sure!"

Severus watched knowingly as her eyes rolled back in her head. She was about to fall apart for him. "You didn't answer my question."

"What…was…it?" Her voice stuttered over the words, her breath hitching.

"Why are you shopping for evening dresses?"

"The Victory Ball," she told him before she arched into him while latching her teeth into his shoulder as she did so to prevent herself from crying out. Her body shook with its release. Severus kept up his relentless pace over the sensitive nub at the apex of her thighs and she whimpered again, trying to pull away. One of his long-fingered hands shot up to wrap around her neck, pushing her back into the dressing room wall.

"You will take it until I say you're done," he hissed menacingly before nipping at her lower lip with his teeth. Her doe-eyes were round, and she was feeling a bit frantic as the pleasure became painful with its overstimulation. He was going to shove her off the cliff again and quickly.

"Come for me, Hermione," he said, his eyes boring into hers. "I want another climax." He leaned in and put his mouth next to her ear as she pressed her face into his shoulder again to smother her shouts. "Come, _Mine!_ " he insisted, and she did as her arms looped around his shoulders to squeeze him tight. If she didn't hold on to him, she'd be a puddle at his feet. "There's a good girl," he was murmuring softly into her hair as she came down from her high.

He trailed wet fingers up her abdomen and between the valley of her breasts before using the opposite hand to gently push her back against the wall and tilt her chin up. She looked at him through heavy lidded eyes. "Open," he commanded. She obliged without thought and he brought his come-covered fingers to her lips. "Clean them."

Hermione's tongue lapped out automatically, drawing his fingers into her warm heat. She was pleased to see his eyes darken further as she closed her lips around them and sucked lightly as she trailed her hand down his chest to palm the swell in his trousers.

"Not here," he told her firmly. "I am not so much into public sex as Lucius is." His eyes were simmering with humor, and Hermione couldn't help the curve of a smile around his arousal-soaked digits.

She pulled back. "He told you about that, huh?"

"He did." Snape's grin stretched further. "It's something I wouldn't mind witnessing one day. There's something very entertaining about watching Lucius Malfoy be one-upped."

"Here, HG," Ginny's voice startled them both and Hermione dashed to pull the forgotten dress of the bench. "I've got about seven, but there were a few more back there."

"Ah, okay," she said as she shoved her arms into the sleeves. She already knew it wasn't a good choice if the look on Snape's face told her anything. "Zip me up?" she asked him over her shoulder.

"I'd much rather unzip, this is hideous." Neither were keeping their voices down any longer.

"Is…Hermione, is there a man in there with you?"

Snape let out a light chuckle as he watched Hermione's face fill with color. "Yes!" she said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Severus is here, and he spotted me. Offered to help zip me up."

"Uh-huh." Ginny did not sound convinced. "Sure. You're hiding professor Snape in there with you." Snape and Hermione exchanged baffled glances at the doubt in Ginny's voice. "Are you gonna open or what? These dresses are heavy and I'm starting to get tired."

"Oh, Gin! I'm sorry!" Hermione shimmied past Snape to wrench open the door, taking in her pregnant friend.

"Oh, gods. Your mystery man is right – that's awful," Ginny said, wrinkling her nose.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed with an air of annoyance. "I know. It really is Severus, by the way. It's not like I let random men see me practically naked." She hefted a few of the dresses out of Ginny's hand before turning to hang them from the hook in the dressing room. Brandishing her wand, she cleared out the previously rejected dresses before levitating the other garments away from Ginny and into the small space.

"Hello, Mrs. Potter," Snape said formally, exiting the dressing room as if it was an everyday occurrence.

Ginny's mouth dropped open and her eyes rounded out with shock. Hermione almost laughed at the cartoonishness of the moment. "Oh, goodness. It really is you…I'm…my apologies, sir." The redhead's cheeks were starting to match her hair as she took the wizard's appearance in. She hadn't seen the man up close for years. He looked…well, he looked good!

"No need for 'sir' or 'professor', Mrs. Potter," Snape drawled. His face was smooth as glass, but Hermione could see the humor in his eyes. He had admitted to her in a past conversation that he had always liked Ginny Potter née Weasley.

"Oh, no. Ginny, please!" she rushed to dissuade the formal use of her name.

"Ginny, then," he answered.

There was an awkward pause. "So," Hermione said cautiously. "Ginny and I are just looking for eveningwear for the Victory Ball, as I said. I'm not having much luck."

"I see that," he said softly before he turned the stack of dresses Ginny had just brought. "Even though I'm well aware your favorite color is not blue, it's a good color with your skin."

Both Ginny and Hermione looked at each other in surprise. "This one," he pulled a gown out of the pile with a small flourish and presented it to her, chuckling when she arched an eyebrow in doubt.

"Only…" He paused before swishing his wand. It didn't appear that anything happened.

"What did you do?" Ginny asked questioningly.

"Shrunk it, it was a tad too big," Snape explained before gesturing for Hermione to step into the changing room.

Hermione took the dress reluctantly and stepped back around him.

"Let me have the honor of undoing this thing for you." His tone brooked no argument, but it wasn't a command. She paused in the doorway when she felt his hand on her shoulder and slowly, painfully slowly, he dragged the zipper down while whispering in her ear. "I will not stay to see it because I don't believe a man should see his date in her gown before the event - no matter what the event." She shivered.

"Really?" She turned happy eyes up at him and his face softened. He could see relief and excitement in her eyes.

"If you wish it." He dropped a gentle kiss to her lips; Ginny Potter be damned.

"Of course, I do," she promised before kissing him a second time.

"We'll talk about it more in depth later, but it's decided," he straightened and squared his shoulders. "Enjoy the rest of your afternoon." Snape brushed her cheek lightly before nodding at Ginny. With that, he left both women staring after him; one with longing, one with bemused surprise.

"Well," Ginny said after a solid minute of silence. "Go put it on, I have to see if fashion advice from Severus Snape is worth anything." Hermione couldn't help but feel grateful that, for once, Ginny didn't have an interest in playing twenty questions.

Ten minutes later they both agreed – Severus Snape's fashion advice was gold. Hermione had found her dress.

* * *

"Miss Granger, you are not focused this evening. You were distracted on Friday as well, although not nearly as much as tonight. I find myself at a loss as to what has come over you."

Hermione was still positioned as he had placed her in the table position. She was naked, except for knickers, and on all fours with her knees slightly behind her and spread a bit more than shoulder width apart. Her upper body rested on her palms which were flat on the floor but a few inches to the sides and in front of her. It was a lesson on objectification or depersonalization. She was no more than an object, a thing to be utilized or ignored. One could argue submission itself is giving into objectification, but tonight the lesson was about being used as an inanimate object. A stool on which to rest his feet, a table on which to place his drink. There was no compassion directed her way. No affection. Nor was there anger or dislike. She was merely an object without feeling and therefore deserved no regard. The exercise was proving to be unnerving.

Setting aside her thoughts on the scene itself, her Masters' words left her frustrated with herself. He was right. Friday night she had made two mistakes from lack of concentration, but tonight was much worse. She had screwed up multiple times since entering the room. She tried to tally her mistakes; poor posture when kneeling, addressing him as 'Sir' instead of 'Master'. Then, when immediately attempting to correct herself, she had called him Lucius, which was ten times worse. Twice tonight he had found her searching his face without permission when he issued a command. She knew better than to meet his eyes without consent. Another time she simply hadn't heard his command to kneel, her mind having wandered to a case at work.

He sounded truly perplexed and not a little tired. "Are you seeking a punishment? I'm most disappointed in you. Yet, I also must wonder if something is wrong. There must be. You are less disciplined now than I have ever seen you."

"Master. Forgive me, Master." She kept her eyes down, her voice quivering.

Lucius crossed his arms over his chest as looked down at her. "Explain yourself."

"I…Master, I can do this. I'll do better. Please." Her voice sounded determined and he could practically hear the internal berating she was giving herself for her screw ups.

After a moment he exhaled heavily. "Very well, see that you do. You have already earned a punishment from my belt. It is up to you whether it will be ten smacks or twenty." After a brief pause, he commanded, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. "Stool."

Immediately, Hermione folded her limbs under, essentially curling herself into a ball while remaining on her knees with her forearms flush to the floor. Once she was in position, he sat in the chair to her side and rested his boot laden feet upon her back. She tried to remain as still and quiet as possible as she heard him flip through the pages of a magazine.

She began to think about his belt. _A punishment, Hermione. You haven't earned a punishment in weeks._ She would do her best to earn no more strikes than she already had coming.

A sharp and loud knock at the door almost made her jump, but she managed to keep her composure. Her eyes still focused on the floor beneath her, she could hear her Master flip the magazine closed as his heavy boots were removed from her person, giving her a reprieve from the weight. As he stood he tossed the magazine upon her back. It was cool, and she could feel the glossy babysitter slide a bit with her breathing. _Fuck!_ If she breathed too heavily or moved in any way, the magazine would likely slide to the floor. He was already put out with her, she did not want to screw up again.

Facing away from the door, she couldn't see but could clearly hear his steps and then the sound of the door opening.

"Ah, Etan. Thank you for coming."

"Not at all, Lucius. You said you needed to discuss something with me?"

"Yes, please. Make yourself comfortable."

She could hear both wizards step towards her, Lucius reclaimed his seat and Etan sat on a chair next to him. Neither acknowledged her presence and neither touched her.

"So, Etan. I was wondering if you had given consideration to the proposal I made last week?"

Etan's voice sounded apologetic. "As you know, Lucius, I'm very protective of my English Rose. I am not sure I could lend her out in the way you've suggested, even if it would be for _your_ use. I trust you completely, however, I have never lent her out in such a way before."

Hermione tried to control her racing heart. _Rose? Master wanted Rose? Whatever for?_ The distaste of jealousy began to coat her tongue, followed by doubt. She was no longer enough for him. He was bored of her submission. Why else would he be pursuing Rose? Is this why she was being used as furniture? Sexual use of her body no longer interested him? He had said it was part of her training, but was that the only reason? Had he tired of her?

"Ah well, I understand your hesitancy. She is most…beguiling…and in addition to being your submissive, she is your new bride as well. I should have given more thought before approaching you. I will quell my craving, friend and will find another submissive for what I have planned." He rested his heavy boots upon her once again. Then, to her surprise, another set of feet were rested upon her. The second pair were less heavy, seemingly clad in a much lighter type of shoe. The magazine remained untouched and still.

"Thank you for understanding, Lucius. I would never wish to offend you."

"Of course, Etan. If I had such a treasure as Rose for a wife as well as a beloved submissive, I would not lend her out so easily either."

There was a pause and then conversation continued. "Draco mentioned that you and Snape are considering some additions to the club?"

Hermione only half listened as Lucius relayed to Etan some of the changes that might be coming. She was much more interested in analyzing the discussion of Rose. Perhaps…perhaps Lucius intended for her and Rose to scene together. After all, he was contracted with Hermione and she knew he would not have sex with another while that was true. Hermione was also well aware she had more training to go and could not imagine it would be completed in less than a few months' time. She felt herself relax as her jealousy faded and reason took over. She released a heavy sigh which was instantly followed by panic as the magazine slipped from her back and landed on the floor awkwardly at her side. Its pages were bent and would likely have creases.

There was sudden silence and Hermione was certain she could feel two sets of eyes boring into her. It took every ounce of her concentration to keep from squirming under the scrutiny.

His voice was calm, his dreaded words predictable. "Forgive me, Etan. I find myself in the unfortunate position of needing to cut our visit short. It seems there is a matter which requires my…immediate attention."

"Not at all, Lucius. I should be going anyway. Rose and I have dinner plans with her mother."

Lucius chuckled lightly. "Ahh, the dreaded mother-in-law. Any improvements on that front?"

"A bit. Rose explained it was consensual, but I can't imagine a mother enjoying walking in on such a sight."

Lucius chortled. "Yes, well. You and Rose do enjoy getting caught."

"This time it was completely unintentional, I assure you."

The men said their goodbyes and Hermione heard the door close behind Etan's exit.

The clacking of his boot heels on the floor behind her was unsettling. She couldn't stand him being disappointed with her. The springs in the chair alerted her he was once again sitting. He did not speak but she could feel his eyes on her. "Come pet, lean your back against the chair between my legs." He softly patted the spot where he wanted her, and Hermione felt a flush of relief that he was bringing her close. She really just wanted to crawl into his lap at this point.

Her legs were stiff, but she managed to straighten onto her knees and crawl the few feet towards him. She did not look at him as she turned and leaned back against the chair as he instructed. She closed her eyes and felt tension leave her as his soft and warm hands began to tenderly rub her shoulders. His words contradicted his touch, however. "Tell me why you will be punished tonight, pet."

Hermione shivered. She knew this was coming, it wasn't a surprise, but she was dreading his belt. Her voice was despondent. "I incorrectly addressed you twice, I was in poor form when kneeling, I looked at you without permission, I was distracted and didn't hear a command, and I failed to play a proper stool."

"Hmm, yes and no." He continued to rub her shoulders. "What you failed to do was arrive with a disciplined frame of mind this evening. The other mistakes would not have occurred if you were more focused. As far as the stool is concerned, you played one just fine. I was actually impressed. The magazine slipped because I made it do so. It was time for Etan to leave."

His hands moved nimbly over her skin as he continued his earlier instruction. "Remaining perfectly still and being objectified as furniture is an acquired talent and certainly an acquired taste. It is not something I enjoy, but there are others who do, and your education would be incomplete without at least having tried it once. Were you a larger witch, tonight's training would have included using you as a chair as well."

He stopped speaking and continued to move his hands down her back. She could feel the knots loosening as his thumbs pressed into them. "There are also those who enjoy being displayed as art; placed on a pedestal for others to approach and study without touching. It would be as though you were a sculpture in a museum."

Hermione didn't respond. Her eyes were closed and, as his hands worked their magic, she allowed the smooth tenor of his voice to lull her.

"Do you have any questions?"

"No, Master."

He didn't speak for a moment and when his voice rang out again, it was with a regretful tone. "Now… about your focus. What do you think you could have done differently this evening to have assured a better outcome?"

Hermione shuddered with remorse. "I worked until the last minute. I did not go home and shower and change clothes as I normally do. I didn't give myself the proper time to disconnect from work. I have a case…It's very complicated. It involv – "

"Enough! I do not wish to hear of it. It has nothing to do with pleasing me." Lucius' voice had been sharp, and it startled her. It was clear her words had angered him. His hands had stilled and as he pulled back from her and she felt bereft when he removed them entirely. After a moment, his voice was calmer as he continued. "So, what you did tonight was deviate from your normal sequelae and as such did not provide yourself with the appropriate time to shift your focus from the day's concerns to your submission and, in turn, your Master. You insulted me by disregarding your preparation for me."

Her heart fell, and she felt sick. She had not thought of it that way, but he was correct. What she had done was tantamount to flat out insulting him.

"In the future, you will cancel if you are unprepared. Do you understand?" The words had been spoken in a crisp and commanding tone. It was clear he would not want her to waste his time again.

"Yes, Master."

His command followed promptly. "Wall."

The word was spoken in a whisper, but Hermione was on her feet quickly. Arriving at the spot of bare wall before her, she spread her legs wide and arched her back as she crossed her wrists and pressed her palms against the cool surface.

Silence.

Then a touch. A warm hand traced silkily down her back. His words were soft. "Tell me, Doll, do you imagine being a training Master is an easy task?"

Hermione had to think for a moment. It wasn't something she had really considered. "No, Master?" It was answered with hesitation and in the form of a question. In truth, she had just assumed this all came easily for him. She had not given much thought to any preparations he would have to contemplate but now she wasn't so sure.

Fingertips continued to stroke her skin as the reality of his words caused her guilt to cut her like a knife. "Do you think I just walk in here after work and that evening's itinerary simply _pops_ into my head? Do you think there is no preparation?"

Hermione swallowed heavily and closed her eyes. Her nose began to tingle with the threat of tears.

"Do you think scenarios and situations I plan are spur of the moment? Do you think I would have arranged Etan's entrance for tonight a week ago if I hadn't put great effort and planning into your training?"

Hermione closed her eyes as the moisture began to well.

"Do you think I don't ponder how best to teach you? Show you? Please you? Discipline you? What's more, do you think I don't have stressful days that I need to leave behind so that my concentration can be where it needs to be?"

Tears began to fall.

Wet, sloppy, and abundant.

"Do you think I haven't had training nights over the past few months where I've had a stressful day that I needed to bury in order to maintain my _focus_ so that I could take care of you? Do you not think it takes discipline and thought on my part to navigate our scenes?"

Silence.

"Answer me, Miss Granger."

Her voice was choked. "No, Master."

"Now, imagine if I arrived unfocused or unprepared. What might that mean for you?"

More silence.

"Would that be fair to you? Hmm? Could it be…unsatisfying? Dangerous even?"

"I'm so sorry, Mast – "

He didn't let her finish. "Do you think I haven't had evenings where it wouldn't have been _so_ much easier to simply have you suck my cock and be done with you?"

"Master, please. You take such good care of me. You are perfect and – "

"Stop. Save it."

More silence.

"You will count and ask me to forgive you after each strike."

Hermione was a mess. Tears were dripping down her nose and chin. She tried to sniffle but her nasal passages were so clogged she couldn't bring in any air. Suddenly his hand was in front of her, gently wiping a handkerchief embroidered with the initials, _L.A.M._ under her eyes and nose. The gesture was kind, thoughtful and so… _him_ that it only made her sob harder. His hand pulled away and his heavy sigh sounded pained.

She could hear the jingle of his belt and never felt more deserving of a punishment than she did in this moment. She had taken him for granted and had never truly considered what training entailed. It had not occurred to her it could be in any way taxing. Hermione had assumed it came easy for him and never felt a bigger fool than she did in this moment.

_Smack!_

The first hit was glancing, and she closed her eyes. "One. Forgive me, Master."

_Smack!_

Another light strike hit her other cheek. Even in his spanking of her he was considerate. She knew the hits would come harder after he warmed her skin. "Two! Forgive my thoughtlessness, Master."

_Slap!_

A harder hit caused her to jolt. "Three. I'm sorry for letting you down, Master."

_Thwap!_

It was on the fifth hit that she felt the first real bite. The warm up hits were clearly over. "Five. Oh, Master, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me!"

_Thwap!_

"Eight! I deserve this. I'm so sorry. Forgive me. I can't bear your disappointment."

_Crack!_

She let out a yell as the tenth hit came down, the hardest yet. Although it was not as hard as she deserved and not nearly as hard as he had spanked her in the past. "Ten!" she sobbed. Her voice was barely recognizable, the disappointment in herself causing her more grief than anything. "I don't deserve you, Lucius...I mean, Master…I don't deserve you and I'm sorry and please…" _Fuck!_

There was an exhale of breath behind her. The sound of the buckle hitting the floor caused her to cry harder. He had gone so much lighter on her than she deserved.

Strong arms swept her up and carried her back to the chair. Sitting, he held her close as she bawled into the curve if his neck. "I'm sorry, Master. I've been disrespectful and have taken you for granted, and you deserve so much better. You take such good care of me. You always put me first, I know that and in return I…I – "

"Shhh, Enough of that. It's over and you are forgiven." He tilted her chin up and once again cleaned her face with his handkerchief. Her eyes were glued to his and his were focused on his task. He dabbed under her eyes and gently wiped her cheeks, her nose, and then her chin. She could see the smudges of her mascara on the fabric and knew she must look a mess.

He kissed her nose. "I know you would never intentionally disrespect me, Doll, but this was an important lesson and one I fear I put off too long. There have been random occurrences I've let slide, but tonight was glaring. It was important you look at our arrangement through eyes other than your own." He tucked her head onto his shoulder and held her for a moment and Hermione's fingers curled into his shirt as her tears subsided. He continued in a soothing tone. "As always, your disappointment in yourself breaks my heart far more than the transgressions themselves. You are a natural submissive, Hermione, and it's my pleasure to train you and it's an honor to have your submission." He tilted her chin up once again. "If I didn't enjoy it, I wouldn't do it."

She sniffled as her fingers manipulated the onyx button of his blouse. Her eyes remained absently focused on her task. "Master, will you promise me something?"

Lucius swallowed as her red rimmed eyes moved up to his, her fingers freezing in their ministrations. "Will you promise me to cancel if you need a break? If your day was long? I couldn't bear to be a burden to you," she whispered.

He kissed her head tenderly. "It would have to be quite a bad day if seeing you at the end of it wouldn't offer solace. But yes, I will promise you the same that I have asked. If I am unable to focus properly, I will let you know. It is only fair."

They stayed like that for several moments. He had begun to rock her in a nurturing manner, and she tucked her petite frame into his chest while letting her feet rest on the side of the chair. Her thoughts began to wander as she mindlessly played with his collar. She contemplated what it might be like to be the Dominant partner. She wondered if Lucius knew what it was like to be the subservient one.

"Master? Have you ever submitted before?"

Lucius looked down at her, surprised by her question. He smiled and let out a small laugh. "Of course, I have. It's something most respectable Dominants have done. How else could I understand any of what you are going through?"

Her eyes lit up, full of curiosity. "Really? Was it a man or a woman…both?" She had forgone his proper title, although neither seemed to notice.

He laughed. "A witch. A beautiful, older witch."

She giggled when he shook his head as he pulled her lip from her grasping teeth. "For how long? Did you think you were submissive and then change your mind? How did it happen?"

"No, I knew I was Dominant. There was never a question. She was recommended…by a friend. I sought her out."

"Wow. Did you enjoy submitting?"

"Well, parts of it were…delightful. But no, not really. She was a masterful flogger. I think it's why I'm good at it. She taught me well." He thought some more, his gaze a bit distant. He looked down at her curious expression. "Submitting was simply part of my Dominant education. In truth, some of the best Dominants and submissives out there are switches. They truly understand both sides of the coin. It's why Draco is so sought after. He is quite the Dominant, or so I've been told."

Hermione was stunned. "No…really? I've never heard anyone say that."

"Well, have you befriended any of the unattached female submissives in the club?"

Hermione's jaw dropped open in contemplation. In truth she had three submissive friends; Draco, Jonathan, and Rose. She hadn't really talked to any of the other submissives. She wondered what they would have to say about Lucius or Severus. She felt a thrill of unwelcome jealousy at the thought of either of her two wizards with another submissive. _Your wizards, Hermione?_ This thought gave her pause. It was sort of true…neither were engaging in sexual activities with anyone except her, but how long would that last? Lucius was only hers in that he was her training Dominant, which was temporary. _He's not actually yours, Hermione_. She shook off the thought as she looked back up at her beloved Master.

Finally answering his question, she shrugged. "No, not really." She thought more about the blond brat who had become a best friend. She shook her head. "Draco? A good Dominant?"

Lucius smiled. "So, I've been told, yes. But he prefers the other side of things, as you know." Hermione found her mind wandering to the con non-con of months past. For some reason she just couldn't picture Draco as anything but submissive, despite her experience with him.

"It's getting late, Doll, and I would like to see you home. Your bottom needs tending."

Hermione hesitated. "Master, do you need…tending? I should like very much to please you."

He studied her for a moment, contemplating. He gave her a small nod. "Knees on the floor, Doll." She slid from his lap and moved her gaze to the ground beneath her. "Eyes on me. I should like to see them as you suck my cock."

Lucius was not surprised when this instruction surprised her. In truth he had begun demanding she keep her gaze down at all times not because it was what he preferred, but because it was what he needed. Her eyes were so expressive and beautiful, and they had begun to haunt him with their impending absence. It was too much, too painful. He could distance himself a bit easier from her when her orbs were focused elsewhere. He had told her it was what many Dominants preferred, and it was why he was forcing her to get used to it. It was not a lie, but it was not the only reason.

Hermione kept her eyes on his as he gestured towards his trousers. "Unfasten and unzip me."

Maintaining her focus on his grey orbs, she first unbuttoned and then unzipped his trousers. He lifted his hips allowing her to slide them down his legs. Just the mere thought of her soft, hot mouth on him had him erect. "Take me into your mouth, pet."

He closed his eyes and let out a stuttering breath as she licked the tip and then engulfed the head before pressing herself up onto her palms so that she could slide her mouth all the way down his length. She brought her head up and then back down again before repeating. She quickened the pace and flicked her tongue along his length. Her right hand slithered under him and tugged on his bollocks as her mouth continued to work him. When her hand slid further back and pressed against the bit of skin just before his anus, he jerked and groaned.

He let out a pant and grabbed under her arms, lifting her easily and setting her on her feet. "Table," he growled. His eyes were wolfish, and his command caught her off guard. Quickly regaining her senses, she dropped to the floor and assumed her earlier position.

She let out a keening mewl when he fell to his knees behind her, ripped off her knickers, and slid into her forcefully. He held her still with a brutal grip as he pummeled in and out of her. His voice was carnal but slow. He spoke between each brutal thrust. "Don't. Move. Tables. Don't. Fucking. Move. They. Are. Used. As. A. Receptacle. For. Whatever. Item. Or. Substance. I. Have. Need."

Hermione could barely hold herself up. Suddenly being a table wasn't so bad after all; she wanted to be used. She wanted to be his receptacle. He stilled and then quickly pulled back as a feral groan escaped his lips. Warm liquid splattered all over the globes of her arse and lower back.

She fought the desire to gyrate her hips and move her thighs together. She was beyond aroused, and his abrupt exit had left her wanting. As his heavy breathing began to slow, a mischievous, teasing, and deep laugh behind her caused her to shudder. "Hmm, yes, you make a very good table, Doll. So much so, I might have to show you off at the Manor sometime. What do you think of that? A table for my…guests to rest their drinks. A receptacle for whatever they have need."

Hermione swallowed as she was both aroused and repulsed by the thought. He wouldn't do that…would he? Her mind began to race as panic began to set in. But then logic stepped in and she realized he was taunting her. Playing with his toy, so to speak.

"If you move, you'll be punished." The words were so soft she barely heard them before his mouth clamped on her clit as his nose rubbed her folds. She squealed when a finger glanced along her dripping pussy before sliding ruthlessly into her arse. The assaulting phalange quickly retreated, and a hard slap landed on her right butt cheek before the merciless perpetrator prodded into her tight, puckered hole once again. Teeth and lips assaulted her clit deliciously as a pointed nose teased her opening and the finger continued to plunder her arse. She couldn't contain her moan. She knew tables didn't moan, but she couldn't help it.

He pulled back from her and commanded, "Come, slut. Come now or I'll take you upstairs and put my new favorite table on display for whomever has need of it."

The second his teeth were on her clit she shattered into pieces. The legs fell out from the table as she fell to her stomach in her state of abandoned bliss.

Lucius chuckled as he fell to floor beside her and pulled her close. "Hmmm, a faulty table indeed."

* * *

Thirty minutes later Hermione found herself laying on her stomach and on her bed as Lucius tenderly rubbed cream onto her bottom.

Her eyes were closed as his large, soft hands massaged the globes of her arse with perfect skill. "That feels divine," she purred.

"So, pet. You and Severus seemed very happy together at the Manor on Thursday. It seems that things are continuing to go well?"

His hands stilled before moving away as she rolled onto her back and pulled her knickers up. Sitting up, she scooted back towards her headboard and patted the spot beside her for him to join her.

Lucius kicked off his shoes and slid up next to her so that they were sitting side by side. Taking his hand in hers, she looked to her left and met his enquiring eyes. "They are, Lucius. He's…wonderful and I won't deny a touch unexpected as well. He can be very romantic. Do you know he brings me tea roses for every date? He doesn't necessarily say the sweetest things, but his behavior speaks volumes. We're very comfortable together."

She looked away and shrugged. "I think I'm falling for him, Lucius and it…it scares me a bit."

Lucius studied her for a moment, swallowing his own continued disappointment. Seeing them together recently had taken a lot of the bite out of his predicament, and he found he _did_ feel genuine joy for them. He would see them both happy and would no longer be an obstacle in their path. It was time. In truth it had _been_ time, he had just needed to be sure, and now he was.

Smiling at her, he pulled her into his shoulder and encompassed her in his arms. "Well, love can be a scary thing. Terrifying even to be vulnerable like that. It is wise to be cautious, but there is no greater happiness than to have such a feeling reciprocated. I would be overjoyed if you and Severus could find that kind of happiness." He leaned back and peered down at her. Her curious eyes shot up to his.

He swallowed lightly and gave her another smile. "With that in mind, I think it's time you and Severus can determine your own course, Hermione. I'm releasing the reins. You are free to pursue whatever physical relationship you choose."

His voice became a touch stern as he continued, "However, you are not play a formal submissive role. Your…natural tendencies should not be denied, but I would prefer your activities not encompass scenes or BDSM. You are still my contracted submissive and therefore you only formally submit to me. I am still your Master, understood?"

Hermione stared up at Lucius, not sure how she felt. "Really? Are you sure you're okay with this?"

He smiled reassuringly. "Yes, love. I'm sure."

Her voice was tentative. "Is that why you were asking Master Etan about Rose? You are giving me sexual freedom and therefore pursuing more sexual freedoms yourself?"

Lucius was stunned. "Of course not! How could you think such a thing?"

"Are you…growing bored of me, Lucius?"

Lucius turned completely towards her. "Hermione Granger, you listen to me. I couldn't be bored of you if we were the only two beings left on this earth. I am contracted to you and will not touch another submissive as long as that contract continues. While I am giving you sexual freedom with Severus, you will continue to be my only sexual partner. That has not changed." He shook his head. "My intentions for Rose were not for myself, they were for you! I plan to direct a scene involving you and another female submissive and thought you would enjoy scening with her again. Master Etan is not comfortable allowing another man to Dominate his witch, however, I will have to find another."

Hermione threw her arms around his neck. "I was worried you were bored with me. I thought…well, and then I thought that maybe you intended her for me, but…well."

He held her tightly, rubbing her head gently. "Relax, my dear. I'm not finished with you yet."

She nodded into his neck. "Ok, good. Because I'm quite sure I have lot more to learn."

Lucius simply held her.

Thinking.

In truth, he felt they would need no more than a few weeks together to complete the rest of what he had outlined. He rubbed her back, soothingly. Her attachment to him was quite natural and he had dealt with this before. He realized her having complete sexual freedom with Severus would help lessen her attachment towards himself, making the transition easier for her.

His attachment to her however? Well, that was another thing entirely.


	29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

**** Chapter Twenty-Nine  
**BETA:** **Raynephoenix2**  


* * *

“Hey!” Hermione called with a grin on her face. She stood on her tip toes and waved, trying to catch Snape’s attention. She was waiting for him outside _Thistle & Thorn_, a greenhouse in Hogsmeade, so they could start their standing Saturday date.

“Good afternoon.” Snape did not return her greeting until he was within distance to talk in a normal tone and Hermione popped up on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck and press her lips to the corner of his mouth. She giggled as his face remained stoic in nature. There were too many people around on this lovely Saturday in late March for Snape to be outwardly affectionate. It didn’t help that they were definitely being watched. Snape never did much care for a crowd and it was the first time they had decided to venture out in the Wizarding world together. She heard a shutter click and scanned the throngs of people, positive their photo would appear in some gossip rag tomorrow. She wasn’t worried, however, after a long discussion, they decided they no longer cared if the public knew of their relationship.

“What’s the plan?” he asked, gesturing towards the shop she was in front of.

“It’s time for me to get my terrace garden planted, I thought this could be something fun for us to do together,” Hermione said loftily, lacing her fingers through his. “Do you keep a garden?”

“No,” he admitted, pushing open the door of _Thistle & Thorn_ and guiding her through. “Luc does. I tell him what I want, he grows it. Herbology was always a passion of his.”

This revelation brought Hermione up short. “Lucius gardens?”

“Yeah?” Snape didn’t seem to understand why Hermione found this incredulous.

“Lucius _Malfoy_?”

“Yes, Hermione,” Snape snapped, and Hermione dipped her head, chastened. She sometimes forgot how impatient he could be. As their relationship had grown and their feelings had deepened, his patience with her seemed endless for the most part. Every once in a while she would push buttons, though.

“And you don’t see why that’s amusing?” She paused their stroll up one aisle of plants to look up at him as she leaned against his side. “Prim, proper, and perfect Lucius Malfoy digging in the dirt?”

He had been looking down at her with narrowed eyes, but she caught his lips quirk at the corners. “I suppose you do have a point.”

“Have you ever seen him in the garden, Severus?” she murmured. “Or do you think it’s the house elves that garden for him?” She cocked her head to the side her eyebrows raising in question even with the teasing lilt to her voice.

“Huh,” Snape seriously considered her question while trying not to laugh. “Now that you mention it.”

They exchanged a conspiratorial look and both broke into laughter which caused a little, elderly witch that had been watching them across the isles to squeak with surprise – Hermione figured seeing Severus Snape laugh would be a novelty for many people. “You’ll have to offer to help him sometime, Mine,” Snape teased after a couple moments and a glare at the witch, who put her nose to the ground to continue with her shopping.

“I will!” she enthused. “I always enjoyed gardening and Herbology.”

“What are you getting today?” Snape turned his attention to the rows of plants before him.

“A mixture,” she said. “I grow some herbs and potions ingredients, but I also enjoy flowers.” She pulled a rumpled list out of her pocket and smoothed it. “I need shrivel fig, dittany, and valerian. I love lavender and peppermint and they’re also good for a few of the potions I make myself. I need a new aloe pl – hey!”

“You make potions yourself?” Snape was suddenly very intrigued and pulled the parchment from her fingers.

“Yes, I do! I happened to have a great teacher!” Hermione exclaimed, trying to swipe the piece of paper back.

His face softened perceptibly and she smiled brilliantly at him. “You were a great teacher, completely terrifying at times but a great teacher none-the-less.”

“What do you brew at home?”

“Headache relief, hangover relief, sober up, basic healing salve, my contraceptive – ”

“What contraceptive do you use?” His face was serious as his eyes shot to hers.

“Once a month, period every three months.”

“The Impedio Gravidum?”

“Yes.”

“Good to know. You have arnica and nettles on here – for bruise paste and boil cream?” he looked up, trying to keep his face straight. “Have trouble with boils, do you?”

She busted out laughing and smacked his arm lightly before responding. “No! Oh my Gods!” She covered her mouth and snorted, her mirth taking over. She pressed her forehead into Snape’s chest, trying to calm herself and shivered when he wrapped one arm around her waist and held her there for a moment, burying his smile in her hair. The witch from before was gaping at them again and he closed his eyes in frustration. This was going to be something he would have a hard time getting used to. He didn’t like sharing his private life with others.

Hermione took a deep breath and pulled away, finally starting to look at plants. She placed one in the cart as she told him. “It’s for Ron’s Aunty Muriel. Molly asked me if I would make it a couple years ago – she says hers never turns out too well.”

“A likely story.”

* * *

“I’ll bring you some of the fertilizer on Easter, it takes a little over a week to brew and strengthen,” Severus said as he gently pressed the last bit of dirt around the repotted aloe plant.

“That sounds perfect, I’m excited to try it!” Hermione agreed before looking down at herself. “Merlin, I’m filthy,” Hermione sighed, pushing herself into a standing position and brushing her hands together. Grimacing, she took in the sight of her dirt-caked nails and the creases of her knuckles, which looked like black spider veins.

“Hm, I think we established that on day one of our reacquaintance,” Snape teased, wrapping one earth-dusted arm around her waist from behind before burying his nose in the side of her neck.

She chuckled, arching her neck to the side to give him more room before wiggling her bum against his burgeoning arousal.

“Take-away for dinner?” she asked, gently unraveling herself from his arms.

“Sounds good.” Snape frowned, it was odd for her to pull away from him. Usually he was the one ending their embraces.

“Chinese? Thai? Pizza?”

“Thai sounds good,” he said softly.

“Why don’t you go shower? I’ll order food and then shower when you’re done.”

Snape watched her as she danced across the living room into her tiny kitchen to wash her hands, frowning slightly. He felt like she was keeping something from him because she had avoided letting him deepen their intimacies all day, which was very unusual. Typically, she was just as eager as he was when it came to their limited alone time.

As he attempted to brush off the niggling feeling that something wasn’t quite right, he made his way into the bathroom and started the shower. This made him second guess himself again, which was irritating. He wasn’t used to not knowing his own mind. Why didn’t she say she would join him; why wait to shower until he was done? They’d shared numerous showers at this point. Ever since Lucius had given her the green light for oral sex and touching, he had spent a few nights with her every week.

That in itself was a huge step for Snape. Never before had he shared a woman’s bed. On the flip side of that, the maybe-handful of women he’d had in his bed over the years were few and very far between. This was something he and Lucius had in common and something they had talked about over the years. Lucius would have never disrespected Narcissa by bringing another woman into their home, let alone his bed. In fact, as far as Snape was aware, the only woman Lucius had ever taken to his own bed _was_ his late wife.

Snape, on the other hand, had only shared a bed with four women. Two because they were his friends first. Lily, for their one and only time when they had decided to give each other their virginities before their fifth year and before he had lost her friendship, and Natalia. Then there was Britt, of course, when they had dated exclusively before Voldemort rose the second time. Finally, Hermione. If he was honest with himself, she was the one who mattered the most, especially when looking back.

In fact, he had shocked himself when he had insisted she stay with him after their first time. Usually, he didn’t bring women into his quarters, let alone beg them to stay after he had fucked them. He often couldn’t get them out the door fast enough.

“Knut for your thoughts?” Hermione asked softly from the doorway.

Snape looked up quickly from where he sat on the edge of the tub, he had been so lost in his musings that she had startled him.

“Did I do something to upset you?” It was out before he considered the words and how vulnerable the question made him – how weak and pathetic it portrayed him as.

Shock registered on her face and she moved to him with haste. Settling to her knees before him, Hermione clasped both his hands in hers. “Why would you think I was upset with you?” she queried, worry marring her features.

“You have been…” Snape was struggling. Showing his feelings was not something he ever did, but somehow she made it easier than he had ever found it before. “You’re always so reactive to my advances, Hermione. You’ve been shrugging them off all day.”

He was horrified when a small chuckle left her and it must have shown clearly on his face because she was instantly apologetic. “No,” she promised, “Severus, no. I have not been shrugging off your touch or your kisses, love. I have simply not been allowing us to lose ourselves and let things go too far.” She bit her lip.

Snape thought for a moment and realized she was telling the truth. She had been as affectionate as she always was but didn’t let herself get out of control like she often did. “Why?” he quizzed.

She gave another short laugh and he was intrigued to find her cheeks flooding with pink. “What’s this?” he murmured, brushing the blush with his thumb. “You’re embarrassed about something?”

“It’s just,” she started before pausing briefly to close her eyes, “I have my menses.” It was said so quietly he almost didn’t catch it over the sound of the shower running. He was too stunned to answer right away. The witch had been denying him intimate access because she was bleeding? Was she joking?

“I could honestly care less about that,” he told her, watching in fascination as her blush grew darker.

“Well…I do,” she protested, pushing herself to stand. “I will not engage in sexual activities while I’m on my period. Especially as we are limited to hands and mouths.” She actually shuddered which made Snape laugh outright.

“Have you had this conversation with Lucius yet?” he asked curiously, his smirk deadly.

Hermione found she didn’t like the look in his eyes at all and crossed her arms defensively over her chest. “No, why?”

“Lucius also won’t care that you’re cycling,” he told her, the gleam in his eyes positively wicked. “He and I are of the same mindset, Mine. He’s not going to let you off the hook because of a little blood.” Snape laughed at her worried expression and watched appreciatively as her eyes flashed with anger. He loved riling her up.

“Lucius has always been reasonable. If I tell him how uncomfortable it makes me, he’ll understand. Besides, I’m not adverse to other play. If I’m wearing a tampon, there won’t be a mess. He can fuck my mouth or my arse.”

Snape growled lightly as he stood and pulled her to him, twisting her so her back was to his front. Hermione let out a whimper of surprise as he pulled both hands behind her back and locked her wrists together, pushing out her breast while the other hand traversed her abdomen. His fingers dug into her low belly, just above her pubic bone in a show of possessiveness.

“You like being fucked in the arse, Mine?” he hissed, his voice rumbling darkly.

Even though she was shaking with immediate desire by his blatant show of Dominance, Hermione was able to hold her own. Lucius had stroked her confidence to the point where very little could make her embarrassed enough to become non-responsive. In a calm and controlled voice, she answered, “Yes, sir. Very much.”

If he was surprised by her answer, he didn’t show it. Instead, he released her wrists to use that hand to angle her neck so she could mouth kisses onto her shoulder while his fingers started to slip towards the waist band of her cotton joggers.

“No,” she said softly and covered his hands with hers even as she shudder from his mouth. “I’m serious, Severus. I’m not comfortable. I don’t want things to be awkward between us, please let me have this.”

He paused in his movements, his breath hot on her neck. His irritation and frustration were palpable, but he closed his eyes and gave a stiff jerk of his head. “I’ll let you have it, for now. But just so you know, Mine. When I have collared you, you will not tell me no because of a little menstrual blood, so start thinking about that now. Wrap your head around it.” Snape tilted her head up, locking their eyes. “I will have you where I want, when I want, and however I want. There will be…no…barriers.”

Hermione’s breath hitched, finding his declaration extraordinarily arousing, before she gave a slight nod as he brushed his lips against hers in a tender kiss.

* * *

**Saturday March 24 th 8:42 P**

**Dear Master,**

Severus told me today that you enjoy Herbology and gardening. This is something we have in common, although my little gardening terrace is probably nothing compared to what you have to offer on the Malfoy Estate. I would love to tour your gardens sometime and would wager a guess that you have a greenhouse as well. Maybe this is something we could do soon?

Sleep: Midnight to 8:00. Brunch: Full English around 10:30a. Dinner: Take out Thai. Exercise: Morning yoga session.

I know my eating wasn’t the best today, but I had brunch with Harry and Ron and it was so much I wasn’t hungry again until dinner time. Not even I can be perfect all the time! (Teasing, of course!)

That brings me to my final bit of information, which is really more of a concern. I started my period yesterday evening. Being I’m on the Impedio Gravidum, I only bleed every three months. I fear it caused a bit of tension between Severus and I today when I rebuked his advances – the man certainly doesn’t like being told no.

I am not comfortable with play during my menses. Please let me know what you wish to do for our sessions this week.

Yours, Doll

* * *

**aturday March 24 th 9:02P**

**Dearest Doll,**

Thank you very much for the chuckle this evening. I will forever savor the fact that you told that bastard no while you still could. Don’t be surprised if he makes that word disappear from your vocabulary eventually. He’s always had a way with pushing submissives beyond their limits and making them love it.

As for our play this week, I will respect your wishes to an extent. I will permit no vaginal intercourse during your monthly, you may wear a tampon. We will not cancel our sessions, however. Orgasm during your menses can be intense as well as beneficial to relieving cramps, headaches, and other symptoms. Therefore, you will not be completely off the hook. Your ability to make me compromise in areas where I wouldn’t ordinarily do so is uncanny, love. I hope you realize that, little witch.

Your food intake today is sufficient, as you said not every day can be perfect. You’ve been very, very good about your diet during our contract, only having a few slip ups over the last three months. Being a full English is more than half your needed intake for daily calories, the spanking you will receive will be more for pleasure than punishment.

I did not realize you enjoyed Herbology. I knew your best subjects to be Charms and Transfiguration. Though I probably should have realized that a young woman such as yourself, who received almost all Outstandings on all her OWLs and NEWTs, would have a vast interest in all subjects. I’m delighted to have this in common with you. If you are available, why don’t you join me at the Manor tomorrow around three o’clock? We’ll spend some time perusing the gardens and I’ll show you _both_ greenhouses. I have some very prized roses, and Severus keeps his Asphodels there as well. I’m sure you’ll enjoy seeing both.

Dress casually and we’ll take an early dinner on the terrace as it is supposed to be a beautiful day.

Love, Master

* * *

It had been three months since M had appeared and Draco had yet to speak to her. He knew he was being cowardly. So many times he had come close and then a random memory would come to mind of him being awful to her and he would lose his nerve again. Absently, he played with the straw in his drink as he watched the buxom Mistress chat amiably with two Dominants, Curtis and Taylor.

Hermione watched her blond friend and felt a mix of pity and impatient weariness. “Draco, really. This has gone on long enough. Just go talk to her. She’s actually kinda…well, I won’t say _nice_ , but she’s relatively approachable.”

Draco shot Hermione a curious look. “When did you speak to her?”

Hermione shrugged. “After she spanked me on stage. Your father made me seek her out a few days later to thank her.”

Draco looked back at the voluptuous object of his obsession. “Did you have an actual conversation with her?”

“Well, no…not really. I thanked her and told her it was nice to see her. She smiled at me, although I wouldn’t say it was a… _friendly_ smile. It was kind of a… _if Lucius wasn’t here I would string you up in my basement and have my wicked way with you_ kind of smile.”

Draco groaned, and his chin collapsed onto his fists which were stacked on top of each other on the table. “What I would give for that look,” he bemoaned with a wistful, childish pout.

All focus was redirected when the formidable Malfoy senior arrived. Lucius held his hand out to Hermione and nodded in greeting to his son. Draco tipped his head in return and continued to mope as Hermione stood and took her Master’s hand. She discreetly shot Draco a look of encouragement as she was being led off towards the basement.

Sitting alone and stewing in his thoughts, Draco watched M, hoping the opportunity would present where he could speak with her alone. His eyes lazily glanced up and down her luscious form. She was tall, almost as tall as he was and while he typically preferred more petite women, he found himself sexually stirred by her curves. He couldn’t help but consider it might be a nice change to be Dominated by a witch who could give the illusion of being able to overpower him. It would be an illusion, no doubt. He was still taller and more broad and he did not remember her being particularly strong magically.

Dressed in a simple black wrap around dress with stiletto heels, Draco felt she looked far sexier than the Dominatrices who walked around in studded, leather corsets. He enjoyed a practically-naked witch as much as the next wizard, but it was far more arousing to imagine what was hidden beneath silky fabric than to have it all displayed out in the open.

Draco sat up straight when his chance to talk to her finally seemed to come. Curtis and Taylor had turned towards another table and M was walking in Draco’s direction, probably heading downstairs to catch some of the Friday night displays.

Just as she was about to pass his table, Draco stood and gave her a small smile. “Hey, Millicent.”

She paused her steps and looked him straight in the eyes, causing him to swallow. She didn’t say anything for a second or two but then turned to fully face him.

Her unblinking and intense gaze caused him to nervously shift his focus towards his own feet. After another beat she responded, “Well, that’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.” She paused and then added, “Millicent doesn’t exist anymore. She’s been gone a very long time.”

Draco swallowed and met her eyes once again. “Look…M…Millie…whatever you want to be addressed as, I…well, I’ve been wanting to speak to you for a while. It’s just that I know I was the biggest arsehole on the planet back at school and as an adult, I’m ashamed of myself. I’m sure you want nothing to do with me, but I at least wanted to tell you I was sorry. I haven’t had the bollocks to approach you because I’m so…mortified.”

M looked at him curiously and then cast a dismissive shrug. “I have no idea what you are talking about. You were certainly a prat, but honestly, I hardly knew you at school, now did I?”

Draco shifted his feet. “Well, I’m glad it was of no bother to you, but I’ll never forgive myself for that night on the tower.” His gaze was downcast but when he glanced up to catch her reaction, there was a flash in her irises which proved she had not forgotten. She didn’t say anything but continued to watch him with the same piercing gaze that gave nothing away.

She was not making this easy for him. “Look, I just want to say I’m sorry. And if you ever…well,” he shrugged, hopelessly. “Never mind.”

“If I what, Draco?” Her tone was a touch sharp.

He swallowed.

When he didn’t answer she sauntered closer, tilting her head and throwing him a coy smile. She glanced from his eyes to his lips as she scraped a long red nail along his jaw. Her voice became smooth as silk. “What Draco? If I ever want to fuck? Is that what you were going to say?”

“No!” Draco replied vehemently.

She stepped back and smiled, knowingly. “Ahh. Play it your way then. You aren’t exactly subtle. You’ve been watching me like a hawk since New Year’s, Draco. I’m not only a woman, but a well-versed Dominatrix and I know libidinous lust…and need…and want when I see it. This sweet little dog and pony show you’re putting on is entirely unnecessary. Millicent, the school girl is long gone, but Mistress M will spank your little bottom every shade of red from the Sahara sunrise to the Hawaii sunset if you desire it.”

Draco’s jaw was halfway to the floor. He was at a total and complete loss what to say. Was this a trick? Was she testing his motive? His sincerity? Was she telling the truth?

“Aww, you look confused. So, I’ll make it easy for you. We were never friends, so let’s not pretend we should have been. If you want to scene with me, it’s very simple, really. Just fall to your knees and beg like a good little boy and we’ll see what happens.”

As much as he wanted to take her up on her offer, it just felt wrong. He looked down and took a breath before meeting her eyes once again. His voice was resigned and quiet. “Honestly? I really do want to be your friend. But that’s fair if you aren’t interested. In truth, I don’t deserve it.” He spotted Snape heading down the back hall. “See ya around, M.” He gave her small hesitant wave and stepped away, walking towards his Godfather. He needed to get away from her. He shouldn’t have hoped the conversation would go differently, it had left him as disappointed as he had assumed he would be.

If he had eyes on the back of his head, he would have seen a look of contemplation on the Mistress’ face as she watched him walk away.

* * *

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. Dressed in a floral, flowy dress with a V-neck, long sleeves and a skirt that fell to just below her knees, she looked every bit the proper witch ready to spend Easter with her adopted Weasley family. The only thing she was missing was her date. She was pretty sure he’d be arriving any minute.

Fairly sure.

Well, a little bit sure.

He had said he would accompany her, after all. But now that Easter Sunday had arrived, Hermione found herself unbelieving. After all, this was Severus Snape she was talking about. In truth, it was a tough sell to imagine him helping with an Easter Egg hunt, or even passing the ham salad for that matter!

She was putting the finishing touches on her minimal eye makeup when she heard the unmistakable sound of an arrival via her floo. It could only be one person and the muscle in her chest fluttered nervously as the reality that she was about to present Severus Snape as her boyfriend to the entire Weasley clan took hold. Not that they didn’t already know he was coming, but…still.

She turned to greet him as he entered her bedroom, giving him a big smile. “You look very handsome, Severus.” He was dressed in a pair of black slacks and a grey button up shirt which was paired with his dragon hide boots and a black leather belt. He had a very nice body, a body which Hermione felt was often covered in too many layers. Today his attire accentuated his fit form and Hermione felt he looked rather sexy. She stepped close and brushed the front of his shirt as she threw him a coquettish glance. “Actually, quite…hot.”

His eyes narrowed and as he opened his mouth to say something that Hermione was certain would be self-derogatory, probably something about her needing glasses. She pressed up on her toes and touched her lips to his before any words could spill. One of his hands wrapped around the back of her slim neck, holding her in place as he deepened the kiss. Snape’s other hand eased up her thigh, under her dress, and delicately traced her skin to the waistband of her bikini-cut knickers. He plucked and snapped the band. “Hmm, any chance I can persuade you not to wear these?” He pulled back to meet her eyes with a roguish smirk.

“Not a chance,” she replied with a cocked brow.

He merely smiled teasingly with an unspoken promise of limits to be pushed in the future. She rolled her eyes and turned back towards her mirror, re-applying and fixing her now smudged lipstick.

He stepped behind her, watching her blot her lips before allowing his gaze to move down and back up again via her reflection in the mirror. His voice was rich and sultry, “You look beautiful, Mine. Deceptively innocent in your flowery dress.” His hands reached around and cradled her breasts, his eyes on his thumbs as they flicked her nipples, causing the now erect peaks to be visible against the thin fabric. His pupils blackened perceptibly as her body reflexively arched back into his. Her eyelids fluttered closed as his hands continued to knead her breasts and then work their way to her hips. When his fingers began to pull up her skirt, she exhaled lightly and opened her eyes. Her hands rested over his as she straightened and put a stop to what was about to happen.

She slid around to face him, and his hands gripped the dressing bureau behind her, pinning her in place. His lips found purchase on her neck as her hands slid around his waist. “You do realize we have to leave, don’t you? Working me into a state of frenzy right now would be hardly helpful.” She admonished, playfully.

He contemplated her words with an inscrutable stare. Nodding his apparent agreement, he conceded, “Hmm. Yes, perhaps you are right. It would be much more fun to work you into a state of frenzy after we arrive.”

Pushing him away, she stepped sideways, wiggling out of his hold. She often found it difficult to decipher when he was teasing, and she wanted him to understand what today meant to her. Her pleading eyes met his inscrutable ones. “Severus, please. Promise me you’ll behave. Today is important. This is the only family I have, and I really want everyone to...”

“What? Like me?” he chuckled. “Not likely to happen. Although they might pretend for your benefit.” Severus watched the nervous anguish on his witch’s face and took pity. “Relax, Hermione,” he whispered in his smooth baritone as he reached out and pulled her back to him. “I understand what today is and will endeavor to make you happy.”

Hermione stared at his eyes, searching for any hidden mirth and not finding anything but sincerity, teased lightly, “Ok…just not…too happy.”

Catching her meaning, he chuckled. “I shall try to control myself.”

Hermione smirked.

“Why is that not more reassuring?”

He laughed. “You sound like Lucius.” He grabbed her hand. “Come, see what I brought you.”

Hermione let him lead her back to her living room. He dropped her hand and picked up a small jar. “Here is some of the fertilizer I told you about. A pinch once a week will suffice.” He put the jar down and then lifted a beautifully potted Easter Lily. “I brought this for us to take to Molly,” he gestured towards her sofa table, “and your tea roses are already in a vase.”

Hermione felt such a flush of affection for this man before her, she couldn’t help but throw her arms around him. “Thank you, Severus. I was going to only take wine, but the Easter Lily is a lovely touch. And thank you for the tea roses, as always.” Hermione felt tension melt away as she held him and nestled her cheek into his chest. His hands rubbed soothingly up and down her back.

After a moment he spoke, and she realized she had lost herself in his embrace. His whispered words reminded her they needed to leave. “Aren’t we going to be late?”

She regretfully pulled away. “Yes, yes you’re right. Let’s get going.”

As they walked down her street towards the Apparition point, Hermione suddenly was seized with panic. _Charlie! What if Charlie’s there?_ She had not seen him since their nice, but slightly awkward, Christmas romp. Her eyes shifted nervously to the wizard walking next to her and she pondered saying anything. Should she tell him? She decided against it but then changed her mind at the last minute. “Oh, umm, just so you know, Charlie Weasley and I…we had a one-night thing at Christmas.” She grabbed his arm and Apparated before the wizard could respond.

The minute they landed, Snape spun her around to face him. She looked up at him with wide eyes and suddenly realized it had been unfair and foolish to spring that on him in such a way. She watched as he closed frustrated eyes and opened perfectly calm ones. “I see. Anything else I should know?”

Swallowing heavily, she went for full honesty. “Umm…he tied me up?”

Severus rolled his eyes and tried not to sound impatient. “Any other partners, besides Ron or Charlie, that I will be in the company of today?”

She shook her head and answered, her words coming out faster the more she spoke. “No, Severus. His name hadn’t entered my mind in months and I just thought of it and panicked, and I spurted it out without thinking and I’m…” She took a calming breath and swallowed. “I just don’t want to have any secrets like that from you. I want to be as honest as possible.”

Looking down at her earnest and beautiful face, Severus nodded and whispered, “Thank you for telling me, Hermione.” He took her hand and kissed it as they started to walk the small path towards The Burrow.

Hermione smiled as they got closer, the familiar Weasley holiday soundtrack was already in progress – squeals of mirth from small children as well as adult laughter and chatter could be heard. As Severus and Hermione rounded the Dancing Azalea (a species of magical Azalea that shook and jiggled its branches when laughter was nearby) they came upon the large clan nestled about several tables. An unusual warm spot of weather had hit for this time of year, and Molly opted to move the celebration outside once again.

Hermione tried to maintain her calm as no less than ten sets of eyes turned their way. The chatter had stopped and there was a dead silence as the group watched Hermione and her date approach. They seemed to remember themselves quickly enough and the conversation resumed as Harry and Ron were the first to jump up from the table and rush towards them.

Snape dropped her hand and watched as first Ron and then Harry threw themselves around the witch in a group hug. Hermione pulled back. “Uhh, guys? You remember Severus.”

Harry nodded and put his hand out to shake. “Of course. Great to see you again, sir.”

Severus took Harry’ hand and shook it firmly. “Potter.”

Ron, looking a bit uncomfortable stuck his hand out as well. “Hello…profess…uhh, sir.”

Severus shook the offered limb and tried to suppress the random and delicious body-disposing methods that came into his mind. “Weasley,” he drawled, barely able to keep the derision out of his voice. It wasn’t the fact that Ron had dated Hermione that bothered him. He didn’t like it, but he could live with it. However, he held no respect for a wizard who slept with a witch for two years and couldn’t be bothered to give her an orgasm. It was unfathomable and simply…rude.

As the four of them walked towards the large assembly, others jumped up to offer hellos and good wishes. Ginny was the first and Severus was suddenly taken aback by her pregnant state. Somehow, he had missed that detail when he had seen her in the dressing room of Twilfitt and Tattings. “Hi Severus, great to see you,” she beamed radiantly at him. He couldn’t help but feel it was a genuine greeting and offered one his own rare smiles in return. “Ginny, nice to see you again.”

When Luna stood, looking even more pregnant than Ginny, Severus turned to Hermione and whispered, “Do not drink the water.”

Hermione giggled as Luna stepped over to them. She hugged Hermione and seemed to study the black-haired wizard for a moment. He was just beginning to feel uncomfortable when she smiled up at him and said airily, “Hello, Professor Snape.” She reached out to shake his hand.

“Hello, Miss…Weasley now is it? Please call me Severus, for I am no longer a professor, much less yours,” he replied as he took her offered hand to shake it.

Hermione watched in curious disbelief when the minute their hands touched, Luna turned pink. Hermione had never seen Luna blush before and found herself suddenly concerned over what had brought on such a reaction. Luna didn’t say anything and watched Snape closely for a minute as she let her hand fall back to her side. “You can call me, Luna…sir.” Neither Hermione nor Snape missed the tacked on ‘sir’. Luna seemed to regain her composure and looked at Hermione. “Plant extra aloe, Hermione. It has soothing and healing properties. I think you’ll need it for the foreseeable future.”

Hermione knew she was blushing. Damn Luna and her clairvoyance…frankly, Hermione felt Luna could be declared an outright Seer at this point. Snape was giving Hermione a questionable glance and Hermione whispered, “later.”

George, Angelina, Bill, Fleur, Percy and Audrey waved their greetings with friendly smiles and barely concealed curious glances as Hermione and Snape headed into the house to find Molly. Of course they found her in the kitchen. “Hermione,” she beamed, pulling the young woman into a hug. Turning her attention to the tall and cautious wizard at her side, Molly smiled warmly at him. “And Severus. We are so pleased you could join us today.”

Severus held the Easter Lily out to her, “Thank you for the invitation.”

Molly looked surprised by the gesture for a hair’s breadth of a second before she took the plant and thanked him. “Thank you, Severus. So beautiful.”

“Luna suggested these varieties of wines, Molly, I hope I brought enough.” Hermione laid out the eight bottles as well as a bottle of Arthur’s favorite whisky. It was a tradition that Hermione brought Arthur an occasional bottle of _Ogden’s Special Reserve_. The wizard would never treat himself to such a purchase, so Hermione made it a point to surprise him randomly with a bottle.

“More than enough, my dear. More than enough. Now out with the two of you!” She started to shoo them from the kitchen. “I have cooking to do, and you know I don’t like obstacles in my kitchen.”

Hermione laughed and grabbed Snape’s arm.

“Oh and take some of those bottles with you.” Molly gestured towards the wine as she donned a dragon mitt on her right hand. Snape was stunned when she opened the oven door and the mitt shot fire. Catching his curiosity, Molly beamed. “It’s for roasting and browning. Such a wonderful gift from Charlie.” Her pride and joy at the thoughtful gift was obvious.

Hermione and Severus each grabbed two bottles and started out of the kitchen.

“Mom, I couldn’t find the yellow ones, but these… _oomph!”_ Just as Hermione was walking out the door, Charlie was walking in. He was too distracted looking at the cloth napkins in his hands to be paying attention and plowed right into the witch, causing her to lose her balance.

Both wizards instinctively reached out to grab her, Snape from behind and Charlie from the front. Charlie had the unfortunate luck to have his hands slip from her arms to her breasts as she fell back.

The world seemed to come to a stop as Charlie looked up with horror into the formidable eyes of his former potions professor, his hands still resting on Hermione’s chest. He yanked them back instantly. “Oh, hey Hermione! Sorry – didn’t see you there.”

“Obviously,” Snape droned out.

“Hey, Charlie!” Hermione squeaked, her voice a bit strained and a lot less natural than she would have liked it. She righted herself and stepped to the side, allowing Charlie to pass. Somehow, she had managed not to drop a bottle.

Charlie, trying to make the best of an awkward situation, held his hand out to Snape. “Hey, Professor. It’s good to see you.”

Snape tucked the bottle in his right hand under his left arm and grasped Charlie’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “Charlie Weasley, how goes the world of dragon taming?”

“Ahh, you know, same ole, same ole.”

Hermione felt like she had stepped into an alternate universe as the two men carried on a conversation that she felt seemed a bit forced. “Severus, we should probably get this wine outside.” She turned back to Charlie. “See you outside?”

“Sure, sure. Be right out.”

Hermione led the way, simply anxious to get away from Charlie. It wasn’t that she felt uncomfortable around him, he was sweet and harmless, but Snape and Charlie talking was wigging her out a bit.

Hermione and Snape came in on the tail end of a conversation about naps. They set the bottles on the beverage table and then stepped towards the group who were situated around a picnic table large enough to accommodate the entire party.

Fleur spoke with the knowledge of a mother who had more experience than the other parents at the table. “All I know eez you must force ze babeees to zleep. Uzerwize, they are cranky and very difficult. Ve must have our adult time in ze evenings.” She cut a flirtatious look back at Bill and then glanced at the others, daring them to disagree.

“Well, I find that if I lay down with them, they tend to rest. Or perhaps, I’m asleep and don’t know the difference,” Luna chimed.

Hermione felt herself disappointed that once again the conversation revolved around something she could provide absolutely no input. This was not an easy situation for her to be in. Being highly educated, not to mention a lawyer, Hermione held opinions about many things. Being unable to contribute to these conversations furthered her alienation.

As though he could read her mind, Snape pulled her to his side and onto his lap as he sat at the end of the table. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she felt a slight blush at the show of intimacy. She tucked her hair behind her ear and peeked down the table finding herself curious as to what the reactions would be. Conversation had once again stopped, and every eye was on them. George whispered something that earned him a smack on the head from Angelina and a giggle from Audrey. Percy looked too gob-smacked to respond. However, within a matter of seconds, the shocked and curious expressions faded, and conversation resumed. Hermione relaxed back into Snape relishing not only his affection, but the long-awaited joy of not being an odd wheel.

All eyes moved to the Weasley patriarch as he approached the table with a smug look of satisfaction. “Grandpa strikes again. Got them all down,” he boasted with a wide smile. It was a little argued fact that no one held more esteem and awe to the Weasley grandchildren than Grandpa Arthur. He also had a talent for getting them to nap.

“C’mon, admit it, Dad. You’re sneaking them shots of firewhisky,” Bill teased.

“Son, it’s all about delivery. A well told story and a warm blanket and off they go with the sandman.” Arthur’s eyes lit up when he spotted Hermione. She hopped off Snape’s lap and met Arthur halfway as he approached her. Pulling her into a monster hug, Hermione relished the comfort of the man who had become a father figure to her over the years. Her knowledge of Muggle devices, ways, and technology only furthered his delight in her company. After releasing Hermione, he stepped around to Snape, who was now standing, and shook the taciturn man’s hand. “Ah, Severus. So glad you could join us today. Welcome.”

“Thank you, Arthur.” His response was spoken quietly but his handshake was firm.

Hermione stepped back to the beverage table and poured wine for herself and Severus. “Can I get anyone a drink?”

Percy jumped up. “I’ll take a cider. Anybody else?”

Ginny looked back over her shoulder towards her brother as she shielded her eyes from the sun. “Anything non-alcoholic over there?”

“Coke? Dandelion and Burdock? Pumpkin juice?” Percy asked as he took over the role of beverage host.

Hermione eased back to Snape and sat next to him as others jumped up from the table to grab drinks.

She handed Severus his glass with a small, teasing grin. “The label has an adorable Labrador puppy on it. Let me know if you like it.”

He took a sip and was about to respond when Charlie approached, his hands full of napkins and silverware. He glanced amongst his siblings. “Up you get. Mom’s hit level three and wants the table made.”

The group groaned and stood. George, who was now sitting closest to his former professor, explained. “You don’t want mom to hit level five. Trust me. We need to head this off at the pass.”

Hermione laughed lightly. “She just wants everything to be perfect and can get a little frustrated with this motley crew.” She looked at Severus as she helped spread the table cloth and continued to explain. “Over the years they’ve developed numerical code for her escalating – ”

“Craziness,” chided George.

“More like insanity,” corrected Bill.

“I was going to say…impatience,” Hermione said with a scolding look at the two Weasleys. Looking appropriately chagrined, they chortled as they helped.

The table cloth was spread, and placings were set with napkins, plates and silverware within a matter of minutes. The group resituated themselves around the table while the conversation fell into a comfortable chatter. Hermione was relieved to realize Snape’s appearance was drawing less focus. The cries of the infant, Molly, in Audrey’s arms pulled the conversation back to the delights of having children and Hermione sagged into Snape’s side resignedly. His hand stroked her bare thigh under her skirt and as it moved towards dangerous territory, she slipped her hand on top, causing its explorations to cease immediately.

“Well, I adore children.” Ginny was nestled back into Harry’s chest, his arms wrapped around her. Her hands were absently playing with the fingers of his right. “I could actually see myself having a slew of them. Eight or more.” Hermione noticed Harry grow slightly pale with this statement and stifled a chuckle causing Ginny to shoot her a reproving glance. Others around the table were outright laughing as Ginny lectured, in a surprisingly Molly-Weasley-like way. “Just wait, HG, once you have your first you’ll understand. It’s the most powerful magic of all, the feeling of a baby inside you.”

“Yeah, but eight? Or more? You’re mental, Gin,” Ron chided his sister from across the table.

“You realize, the uterus is not a clown car,” Severus said simply as he cut the red-headed witch a curious look, his silky baritone carrying easily over the crowd.

Silence.

Then George snorted.

And that was it. The entire table fell into uproarious laughter and guffaws. Harry was laughing so hard he had tears streaming down his face. Snape merely smirked as he sipped his wine and held onto his witch. Hermione was giggling not only in humor but in the relief that Snape’s joke had been well received. If it had not been for a culture expedition where Hermione and Harry had dragged the entire Weasley clan to a muggle circus the prior summer, the tease would have fallen flat. She looked back over her shoulder at her man and smiled widely, the wine leaving her emboldened. “Haven’t I told you, Severus? I’m thinking a baker’s dozen!”

All eyes immediately were on Snape, certain a sarcastic or a scalding remark would follow such a proclamation.

“Hmm, I was thinking along the lines of two or three,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. The words may have been said quietly but everyone heard, and jaws were practically on the plates. Hermione couldn’t help the blush that crept over her skin. No one at the table could doubt his affection for her after saying such a thing. Even if the context had been under a playful foundation, this was Severus Snape.

When Hermione glanced back around the table, the looks towards them were more contemplative in nature, accepting even. Luna was smiling serenely at them. It was Charlie’s knowing gaze that caused her to flush. He wagged his eyebrows and smiled before picking up his drink and turning to speak to Percy on his right. Hermione chewed her lip as she realized Charlie had more insight into her relationship with Snape than anyone else at the gathering, save Luna perhaps.

Just then, Molly approached with a dozen platters levitating at her side towards the table. Not wanting to eat before the children woke from their naps, the platters were placed under a stasis charm but laid out for all to admire. Ham, potatoes, hot cross buns, roast beef, carrots and green beans were just a few of the dishes placed on the table. While Hermione and Snape were still a curiosity, the obvious stares had stopped, and Hermione felt herself relax. So far, her inclusion of Snape had gone quite well.

An hour later the children had joined them, and the feasting had begun. Unfortunately, the little ones were eager for the egg hunt and were not terribly interested in eating. In years past, the children’s fun had been in the morning prior to lunch and naps. However, this year, the schedule was changed due to Luna’s insistence that the snorklerooks were breeding in the morning grass and disturbing them would bring terrible luck on all their heads. She had been quite adamant. However, judging by the furtive glances between Fleur and Ginny, next year the old schedule would be reimplemented, snorklerooks be damned!

The children were just beginning to become unbearable, feeding off each other’s impatience and bad-behavior, when the most shocking thing happened.

In his signature teaching voice that had tormented each and every one of them at the table at some point or another, (excluding Molly and Arthur, of course) Snape looked the four oldest children in the eyes and said, “Victoire, James, Aries and Apollo, look at me. Listen very closely.” The two-year old, Dominique looked up, seemingly irritated that her name hadn’t been included.

“Yes, you as well, Dominique,” he added as he met her large, blue eyes.

All four, including the three two and half year old’s, stopped and looked at Snape as though mesmerized. He gazed at them seriously, but not cruelly and lifted his wand. He tapped it lightly on the table, causing a few sparks to shoot up into the air. Hermione sat stunned as the children were captivated. “Each of you will find a surprise on your plate. A surprise that is hidden. It could be under your potatoes or it could be under your beef, but it is hidden and can only be uncovered by ingesting – That. Is. To. Say. _Eating_. – what is on your plate.” His eyes shot to James’. “Ah, James. Yes, I can see your mind working out the puzzle. It won’t work. Simply _moving_ the food around your plate will not unearth the mystery. It must be eaten.”

Victoire, the oldest of all the children at almost seven, looked doubtful and cast a glance from her plate back up to the wizard with the dark eyes. Severus met her gaze with a signature cocked brow which caused her to promptly shoot her ice blue eyes back to her plate.

No one said a word. They simply watched in amazement as the children slowly began to eat with their focus intent on their plates, waiting for this great secret to reveal itself. Hermione tilted her head to her wizard on her right and whispered, “What’s the secret?”

He shrugged as he sipped his wine. “I’ve no idea. We have about three minutes to enjoy the peace and think of something.”

Hermione felt her heart race with panic. “Severus, what were you thinking? The children are expe…”

He smirked. “Relax, little one.”

She froze and noticed the mirth in his eyes. Realizing he had been teasing her, she play punched him in the arm. “Oh you!” When she looked back towards the table, it was to find thirteen pairs of adult eyes staring at them. While it was unlikely anyone had heard their words, the playful exchange was certainly noticed as was her playful brutality and scolding of him. A reprimanding glare from the witch caused them each to return their focus to their own meals.

“Wow,” Victoire whispered in amazement as she swallowed the last bite of food. Her eyes were glued to her plate and the other children were watching with wide eyed curiosity.

“Well, what ish it?” Ron asked, his mouth full of green beans. He leaned closer to his niece and smiled as he glanced down on her plate. The toile design of the plate morphed its lines and angles into magnificent colors and moving spherical designs as though looking thorough a kaleidoscope. Victoire picked up her plate and moved it around causing the designs to shift and the colors to change.

The other children rushed through their meals, eager to see what Victoire had found to be so enthralling.

Snape looked at Molly. “Molly, I assumed the plates are charmed not to break?”

“Oh, of course. They’ve been charmed since Bill and Charlie were in nappies.”

The adults around the table mouthed words of thanks to Snape as the children finished their meals and became engrossed with the designs on their plates. It was a brief period of reprieve, but provided enough for the adults to enjoy a little peace as they finished their meals and enjoyed light conversation.

Hermione squeezed Snape’s knee under the table in gratitude. The day was going better than she could have imagined.

After the feast, Hermione and Snape sat quietly and watched as the children dashed about looking for the elusive eggs. Charmed eggs that dashed and hid to avoid being spotted and caught. Hermione laughed as James dove for a yellow egg that slid two feet to the left when he made his grab, causing him to slide in the grass and guffaw with merriment.

“Hmm, he tied you up, did he?” The whispered question tickled her ear as she felt her belly clench in an almost Pavlovian response to his seductive Snape-tone.

Playing dumb she leaned closer. “What was that?”

His hand snaked around her waist and pulled her closer as he watched the children run about. “What else did he do to you?”

“It was nothing. It was just one night. I told him what I wanted, and he did it without making me feel like a tart for asking. He’s a good man. Don’t hex him.”

Hermione sipped her wine as his hand rubbed her hip. “Did he bring you to orgasm?”

She swallowed, her eyes searching for the wizard of their discussion. “Yes, twice.” She whispered, spotting Charlie laughing as he held Apollo’s hand and helped him catch eggs.

After another brief pause, Snape asked, “Why only one night?”

Hermione smirked as she stood with the intention of helping a frustrated James capture some eggs. Leaning over, she placed a tender kiss against his forehead before responding, “Because he wasn’t you.” She turned and shouted to James as she trotted up to take his hand and pull him into the thick of things, completely missing Snape’s look of surprise.

* * *

Hermione was coming out of the loo when Charlie came around the corner and spotted her. “Hey you,” he said with a small smile.

She paused her steps. “Hey yourself.”

“So, Snape, huh? How’d that happen?”

Hermione glanced out the window and spotted Severus talking to Molly. “It’s a rather long story, actually.”

When her attention turned back to him, he asked softly. “Does he make you happy? Does he…meet your needs?”

Hermione felt herself blush. “Charlie, that’s really none…”

“I just want to know you’re in a good place, Hermione. I know it didn’t rock your world, you know, that night. But it has stuck with me. I’ve found myself craving…well, let’s just say I liked what we did. Only I don’t know where to meet witches who are into that kind of stuff. I mean it’s not something you blurt out and ask.”

Hermione watched him for a minute, her lip twitching into a small smile. “You liked that, huh?”

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck as a small blush crept over his cheek and ears. “Hell yeah, I liked it. Where do I go to get more of that?”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. After a minute she decided to help him. “There’s a club. It’s secret kept in Knockturn Alley. You’ll find many like-minded individuals there. It has a general area that non-members can have access to if they are invited. I can meet you there on a Tuesday or a Thursday to introduce you around. Severus is really the person you should talk to about it.”

Charlie turned completely white. “Uhh, that’s a conversation I’d rather not have. I’d like to keep my testicles, thank you very much.”

“Relax, he already knows about you – I told him. Besides, he’s an owner of the club. He’s a good person to talk to. There are others I can introduce you to as well.” She could see the nervous trepidation written plainly on his face.

Hermione spoke reassuringly. “Come to the club, Charlie. You can talk to Severus or you can meet others who might be able to guide you a bit. You can at least see that you are not alone.”

He stared at her for a minute and then sighed. “Ok.”

“I’ll owl you a calling card with the address. It will grant you entry.” She watched him another minute. “Charlie, don’t tell anyone, ok? I’m not ready for…“ She looked out the window at her adopted family. “I’m not ready and it’s not their business anyway.”

Charlie’s eyes softened. “Hermione, it’s our secret. I would never disclose anything like that and…thank you, ok?”

She smiled warmly at him. “Of course, Charlie.”

* * *

Severus watched Molly from across the table as she beamed at her grandchildren. Now that he was really looking at her, the resemblance was striking. Granted, Lucinda Prewitt had been a more petite witch, but the red hair and the brown eyes were similar. Even the shape of their mouths and noses were similar.

Severus proceeded cautiously. “You have an Aunt Lucinda? What is she up to these days?”

Molly turned to him, astonished surprise on her face, her lips turned up in a smile. “How do you know Lucy?”

Severus held back his chortle. _Lucy?_ She would have whipped him raw if he had called her that. “I knew her twenty-five or so years ago. Not very well, mind you.” That was a lie. Severus knew his training Mistress intimately and had thought of her often over the years.

Molly sighed. “She has become somewhat of a recluse. She married about six or seven years ago and moved to his estate in Holland.” She sighed. “I haven’t seen her in over twelve years. I receive the occasional owl.”

Snape’s brows peaked. He had not heard she had married. Did Lucius know?

“Married, huh?”

“Hmm, yes. We were all surprised. I’ve not met him, but Aunt Muriel says he’s a well-respected and powerful wizard in Holland. “

 _And likely submissive_ , Severus concluded thoughtfully.

Molly watched Severus and he could see the cogwheels turning. “Like I said, I really didn’t know her very well. But seeing you today brought her memory back and I was merely curious.”

Seeming mollified, Molly looked back at her family scurrying around in the grass and bushes. She would keep her opinions to herself about her aunt, a woman who had always been quiet and shy and a bit odd in Molly’s opinion. Molly just couldn’t identify with a woman who had no desire for children. Then there was the time a young Molly had been visiting her Aunt’s home and found a secret room off the basement. A room full of items which at the time merely left the young girl curious. However, as an adult, Molly knew exactly what kind of room that had been and just what kind of activities her Aunt had gotten up to. Glancing another peek at Severus she briefly wondered, but then tossed the thought aside. After all, Severus would be a good fifteen to twenty years younger than Lucy.

* * *

It wasn’t until after seven in the evening that Hermione and Snape made it back to her flat. She was exhausted and had not realized how much tension she had been holding until it began to slowly work its way out of her over the course of the afternoon. Now that Easter was behind her, and had gone so very well, she felt like a wet noodle. She was certain Severus would feel the same way, it couldn’t have been easy for him.

As they took off their cloaks, Hermione turned to him. He stepped to her and pulled her close, enveloping her small form into his arms. “I’m wiped,” she whispered.

“Yes, it was a…long day.” His voice held no disdain or irritation. He merely sounded as tired as she was.

She peeked up at him. “Thank you, Severus. Thank you for going with me and thank you for…”

He smirked. “Behaving?”

“You exceeded expectations. You managed to tolerate Harry and the entire Weasley clan without throwing a single hex. You even managed to make them enjoy your company.”

“And there it is. I was certain you had a bit of madness within you just itching to make itself known. You were entirely too perfect.”

She matched his smirk. “Oh stop. You are excellent company when you choose to be, Severus Snape, and now my family knows it as well.”

His eyes lit up and a playful grin crept over his growing five o’clock shadow. “Exceeded expectations, huh?”

She chewed her lip and nodded, playfully.

“And just what reward does an Exceeded Expectations earn an ornery old wizard such as myself these days?”

“Well, I don’t rightfully know.” She chewed her lip. “A cup of tea, perhaps?”

“Hardly inspiring, witch.”

“A biscuit with your tea, maybe?”

“I’m quivering with excitement, “ he drawled lazily.

“How about I draw you a bath and prepare your tea and treat while you bathe.”

“Hmm, I think I’d prefer my treat while I’m bathing.”

She looked up at him coyly. “But then your biscuit will get all wet and soggy.”

The corner of his lip drew up as his look became a touch predatory. “Well, it just so happens that wet and soggy is exactly how I like my _biscuit_.” He slapped her bottom causing her to squeal.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back towards the bath. “Come, wench, I find myself very dirty and feel I require your assistance with a vigorous scrubbing.”

Hermione giggled as she followed him, ignoring the small niggle at the back of her mind. A tickle reminding her of her usual Sunday companion and she couldn’t help but wonder how he spent his Easter. Realizing she would be seeing him the next night as they had agreed to postpone, she pushed him to the back of her mind and focused on the wizard who was looking down at her with very needy eyes.

Needy eyes that made her guilt bloom for waiting over two weeks to tell him she was able to be fully intimate with him. Of course she had her reasons, she had been nervous and intimidated at first. She had worried that taking the next step too soon would cause a problem. By the time she had been ready to move forward, Aunt Flow turned up and she had bled through the following Saturday morning. (Her periods, because they only came four times a year, were always heavy and usually lasted 6-8 days.)

She waited until they were in the shower and Snape’s were hands lazily rubbing soap into her curves before she turned to him, eyes lifting to meet his briefly before demurely looking away. Lucius’ words of “don’t deny your nature, but no scening” tumbled through her head.

“What is it, Mine?” he said, automatically recognizing her needs and assuming the Dominant role just as she assumed the submissive one.

“I think what I am going to tell you will upset you, but I ask that you remember I had my period this week,” she started softly.

“Look at me.” It was a command and she immediately raised her eyes to his. “Tell me.”

“I have been told we can be intimate. No scening, but we do not have to deny our natures.”

Snape’s body froze in shock as his eyebrows raising clear to his hair line. “And when were you told this?” His voice was cautious, she had already told him she felt he would be upset.

“Please don’t be mad,” she murmured.

“Hermione,” he said softly, cautiously, “tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“The twenty-first,” she whispered, her eyes roaming his face anxiously. She hated the way his expression went blank as he hid his emotions from her.

“Why?”

“Why did I wait?”

“Yes.”

“I was scared,” she admitted, her voice wavering.

“Why scared?” It was obviously not what he was expecting, his head tilted as he studied her contemplatively. Snape reached behind her for the shampoo, working very hard to control not only his disappointment, but his insecurities as well. He didn’t understand why she had needed over two weeks to be ready to be intimate with him. He poured a handful of the fragrant soap into his hands before turning her again and tilting her head back. He would let her talk it out before reacting, he had found that if he reacted before she explained things that he often came out looking like a jerk. Her reasons were almost always understandable.

“Because the last time we did this, everything backfired,” she confessed, “but to be frank with you, I had no intention of waiting this long. I had figured out by the following week I was ready. I know we are in a much better and more secure place and that I was just being silly and over thinking it,” she was rambling, but the guarded look on his face was breaking her heart. He worked the shampoo through her curls with practiced ease that made her want to moan in pleasure. “But then I didn’t see you until Friday, and my period showed up and, oh Gods, that feels good,” she sighed. “At that point I figured it would be best kept to myself until I was in the clear, or you would undoubtedly talk me into sleeping with you while I was on the rag. And, well, I want it to be special – don’t get me wrong, I’m not expecting romance and candles and all the jazz – but I definitely don’t want to be a bloody mess (literally) when it’s done. That would be mortifying. And – ”

“Hermione.” Good Lord, the witch was exasperating when she was nervous. That trait certainly hadn’t changed at all in the last fifteen years. She rambled almost nonsensically until someone made her stop. “Be quiet,” he insisted and chuckled when her mouth snapped shut with an audible clack of her teeth. “You have explained yourself, and I understand your reasonings even if I’m not pleased with them.”

Again he nudged her, indicating she turn around before taking her jaw in one hand and gently tilting her head back into the shower spray, rinsing away the foamy soap. He watched in admiration as the white suds sluiced down her form and over her breasts calling his cock to immediate attention; it filled rapidly with his arousal.

He pulled her back out of the spray, but kept his fingers firmly at her neck, forcing her to look at him. “While I will not punish you for your secrets this time, mostly because I am not allowed to, I will make you pay for making me wait two weeks longer than necessary to bury myself inside you.” Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise, even as they darkened with growing desire. “It’s been months, witch. Months. And I have wanted you badly ever since the morning you crawled out of my bed back in November.”

“Severus.” It was said imploringly, with a deep seated need that left him breathless. He answered the siren’s call with his lips, crashing them to hers like waves against the deadly rocks of Sirenum Scopuli.

Snape kissed her hungrily as the hand encircling her throat slid into her damp hair. He twisted and yanked her head back roughly, taking her pained gasp into his mouth before trailing his tongue and teeth down her chin to nip at her jaw bone before suckling her neck. He smirked against her pulse point, knowing exactly what he intended to do to make her suffer in the most pleasurable way possible.

He pulled away carefully before reaching behind her to pick up the loofa. He handed it to her, smirking when she gave him a confused look. She was panting with desire, her eyes clouded with lust. “Wash me,” he demanded, “thoroughly, and well.” Hermione’s expression flickered with understanding and he gave her a wicked grin.

* * *

“Severus, please no more,” she begged, her eyes brimming with tears of frustration. She was so hot that her body was covered in a sheen of sweat from being poised to climax for too long. The coil in her womb ached with the need to spring free. Not that she hadn’t learned her lessons of being edged well over the last few months; she would even go so far as to say edging was a delicious form of foreplay and made the following orgasms explosive, but she couldn’t take any more. She had lost count of how many times she had been a breath away from detonating only to have him back off. Hermione was well aware he was just proving to her she was in for a world of scrumptious hurt when he was her Master. However, his point had been made and she was definitely not above begging.

Hermione’s heart literally stuttered to a stop in her chest when his eyes raised from his torture of her quim to meet hers. They simmered like glowing coals and a sly smirk split his features. “I have to admit,” his silky voice sent a visible shiver down her spine and his smile widened, “you lasted much longer than I had anticipated.”

She froze. Had this been a test of some sort? Cautiously she replied, “And does that please you?” The huskiness of her voice startled her, but his eyes only darkened impossibly further in response. Snape rose above her, pressing a kiss to her jutting hip bone before trailing light kisses up the center of her abdomen.

He nipped the underside of her left breast, causing her to gasp and arch. “Very.” He nipped the other breast. “Very.” He tongued the valley between, and she could feel his heavy, turgid erection press against her inner thigh and whimpered. “Much.” His warm, honied breath caressed her face just as he settled his lips over hers in a deep, toe curling kiss – the first since they started this excursion in the shower.

Snape did not enter her yet, even though he was practically on death’s door with the need to. Instead, he gave her the deep, penetrating kiss she had been wanting for almost the last hour. He reveled in the way she melted under him while her arms twined around his shoulders and her nails dug into the muscles surrounding his shoulder blades.

In the back of his mind, he was more than impressed with her this evening. He had edged her, by his count, twenty-three times in the last fifty minutes or so. Not once had she tried to take over their intimacies, not once had she tried to direct her wants. The minx had taken everything he had given her.

Oh, of course she had groaned her protests, of course she had sobbed her need. For a moment, when he had told her to make him come, she had looked at him with such a mix of anger and frustration he had almost laughed out loud. But she had never contradicted him. Had it been a test? Had he been challenging her resolve? Her abilities as a submissive? Perhaps a little. Mostly though, he had been determined to make this moment in their lives memorable and he felt he had more than succeeded.

Very slowly he brought their kiss to an end, nibbling and sucking on her lips until they were both calm and still. Snape pulled back, running his nose along hers before pressing tender kisses onto each of her closed eyes. “Hermione?” he whispered against her cheek. He drew back just a bit, waiting for her eyes to flutter open. “Tell me again.”

She knew just what he wanted. He had told her he wouldn’t fuck her until she begged him. “Please, Severus,” she murmured as she tilted her face up to kiss his lips chastely. “Please come into me.”

“Keep your eyes on me.” The command was soft but firm. He slid one arm under her shoulders, pulling their upper bodies tight together before moving the other between their legs to line his cock up with her opening.

Snape could read every emotion on her face, and the blatant affection, trust, and adoration in her eyes made his chest tight with feeling. As he pushed himself into her more than primed pussy and felt her incredible heat envelop him, a primal growl was ripped from his throat even as her breathy moan met his ears. Her body trembled almost violently beneath him.

“Oh, Severus,” Hermione whispered. Her eyes were locked to his as he had instructed and were wet with tears. Instinctively he knew the tears were good, that she was as overwhelmed as he was. “Oh, God,” she choked while he seated himself fully into her. “Oh, please…” It was a whine and a gasp and Snape had no way to answer her. His jaw was clenched so tight at the inundation of pure fire and emotion of having his witch wrapped around him.

It was…

Sublime.

Magnificent.

Transcendent.

Better than the first time by leaps and bounds.

Nothing had ever felt so much like being welcomed into a warm, cozy, and perfect home. When he bottomed out inside her, her legs automatically wrapped around his hips to draw him in that last precious inch, making them both sound their pleasure audibly.

She moved her arms and traversed the grooves of his trapezoids to his deltoids to finally cup his face. Brushing her fingers over the rigid lines of his features, she spoke. “Tell me,” she begged as a tear leaked out of one corner of her eye. “Severus, tell me it’s the same for you. _Please_.”

Snape could see the fear in her eyes mixed with the wonder and the need and the desperation. He could see her desire for reassurance. Her need to know that this connection they had, that had exploded in a silence of epic proportion when they joined to become one, was felt on his end as much as hers.

He knew what she wanted from him – and it wasn’t an orgasm, it wasn’t friction, it wasn’t just lust needing to be fulfilled. It was his dedication, his commitment. She needed him to confirm that this magnetism that started all those many weeks ago was reciprocated. That the accumulation of their ups and downs, their rights and wrongs had all come together in this moment to create a bond neither of them had had the full knowledge of.

That their time abstaining, of getting to know each other, of building a true foundation to their relationship had been worth it for this one moment alone. That this one moment would be the fertile soil where more could blossom. That this one moment was the catalyst that would lead to hundreds of thousands of moments in their lives together.

The part of him that was so used to being alone, so used to hiding himself from everyone, told him to get the fuck out of there. To end it. To guard his heart. To hide his soul. However, the part she had opened begged him to give her the answer she wanted. That she wouldn’t hurt him. That she wouldn’t leave him. That she was different from every other woman he had ever known.

So, against his better judgement, he listened to that part – the part one would call their heart. “Yes,” he choked out in a raw voice. “It’s the same for me, Hermione.”

Hermione searched his eyes, her own flicking rapidly between, and she must have seen the truth in his words because she let out of small sob of relief before leaning forward to seek his mouth with hers. Snape could taste the salt of her joyful tears as he nipped the seam of her lips, demanding entrance. She granted it just as he pulled his hips back and then pistoned forward.

He swallowed her cry of ecstasy and moved again. The heat of her around his cock was enough to boil him from the inside out. Her inner muscles twitched, spasming around him, sucking him into her with each forward movement. He was never going to last, never mind that she had made him come less than thirty minutes ago. The whole experience was mind blowing, utterly overpowering in its intensity. Wrapping one arm around the small of her back, his other hand sought purchase from her headboard. He angled her hips up and set a grueling rhythm.

Snape caught her every cry in his mouth, keeping their kisses slow and deep even as their hips rolled together frantically reaching for mutual release. It seemed as though she couldn’t keep her hands still; they grasped for leverage in his hair, the nape of his neck, his shoulders, and his upper back. Her nails scored his scalp and bit into his muscles.

Too soon – much too soon – she was ripping her mouth away. “I need to come – please let me come. Oh God, please!” It was a desperately frantic plea as the movement of her hips against his became erratic and syncopated.

“Yes!” he growled into her neck, nipping her collar bone. “Come, Mine. I’ve got you. Fall apart for me.” He lifted his head and caught her tawny eyes, which were wild with need and emotion. “I’ve got you,” he promised her and watched her nod her acceptance.

It only took a few seconds more, and Snape’s eyes didn’t leave hers. He watched with more satisfaction then he had ever felt in his entire life as her eyes rolled back a breath of a second before her jaw dropped and she let out a feral, guttural cry of completion. Her body shuddered and spasmed and he cursed when her muscles clamped down so tightly on his cock that his movements were brought to an immediate standstill.

He shouted into her neck, surprised when her crushing orgasm milked his own straight from his bollocks. His control over his own body was lost as she surrendered herself to him completely.

Snape rocked through his orgasm, attempting to draw out both their pleasure as long as he could but he was trembling and was unable to stop himself from collapsing on top of her. He sought her mouth again, and her nails dug into his back, trying to pull him closer as she opened for him, their tongues tangling wildly.

Eventually, her legs unraveled from around him and slid down to the bed and her hands loosened in his hair. Absentmindedly, he realized he must be crushing her with his weight, so he shifted and took some pressure off her by placing it on his elbows. Their kisses slowed and she pulled back with a lazy, contented smile on her lovely face.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something but seemed to catch herself and Snape wondered if she had been about to share the same words that were tumbling around his head. She had refrained herself, however, and he was grateful. No matter how much he wanted to hear them, no matter how much he wanted to say them in return, it was too soon and would only make him want to run scared. How well she must know him already to recognize that.

Carefully, he rolled off her and pulled her with to keep her tucked to his side. He waited for her to talk, but she never did. She just ran gentle fingers through his chest hair while simultaneously pressing soft kisses to his skin every now and again. A few minutes resting thus and she tilted her head up to look at him.

Snape was already watching her, a soft expression on his face. An expression that curled her toes and made her want to giggle like a love-sick teenager. Hermione smiled and reached to trail her fingers along his cheek and over the bridge of his nose before adjusting herself to place a series of gentle kisses to his lips.

“Some water?” she asked quietly when she’d had her fill. He nodded wordlessly but did not loosen his arm to let her go. She chuckled quietly and snuggled back down into him, closing her eyes when she felt him pressing a tender buss to the top of her head. It was a bit later that she heard his breathing deepen and she realized he had fallen asleep holding her. Her eyes prickled with happy tears as she burrowed a bit deeper into his warmth before extending her arm to summon the blankets from the end of the bed.

It was effortless to fall asleep in his arms, never realizing she hadn’t completed her journal for the first time since New Year’s.


	30. Chapter Thirty

 

* * *

**Monday April 9** **th** **  
6:47 AM**

Dear Doll,

I am concerned that you missed your journal last night as you have not missed a single day since December. Please let me know that you're all right.

Yours,  
Master

* * *

**Monday April 9** **th** **  
7:23 AM**

Dearest Master,

I'm horrified! I am so very sorry. I have no excuse other than it was a super busy day and I completely forgot. I will fill out yesterday's journal just as soon as I send this off, but wanted you to have my apology first! I will immediately submit for my five hits with the implement of your choice at our next session. Please forgive me.

Love,  
Doll

* * *

**Monday April 9** **th** **  
**

**7:29 AM**

Doll,

I am glad you are well. I look forward to your journal…and your punishment. I will see you for dinner tonight.

Love,  
Master

* * *

"Draco, your flat is amazing!" Hermione looked around at the monumental apartment. It was as richly decorated with antiques and as luxurious as Malfoy Manor. A marble entrance foyer led to a comfortable lounging room with cherry wood antiques, colorful and plush Persian rugs, a large stone fireplace, and a leather sofa she felt she could live on. The dining room was impressive with two multitier chandeliers and a table which could easily seat twenty people. Walking into the kitchen she was surprised to find it very contemporary with state of the art Muggle appliances. There was a study that was much like his father's and a hallway which led to several more rooms.

He waved them off nonchalantly. "My bedroom, a few guest suites, a gym, a playroom, and a large multi-purpose room that can be adjusted for whatever social function I could need it for."

Hermione looked around the space in continued stunned amazement. "Draco, why did you leave the Manor? You've simply made a mini version of it here!"

She noticed a slight tensing of his shoulders and a flash of sadness in his eyes. He swallowed and looked away from her before turning back to meet her gaze. "I can't live there. I can visit father and occasionally spend a night if needed, but I can't live at the Manor. Not after that…not after everything that happened. Not after _he_ lived in that house. I see him everywhere I look despite the redecorating." He paused and then spoke in a more quiet and reserved voice, "Besides, without Mother it doesn't feel like home to me anymore." He looked around and gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "So, I made my own home and yes, I know it is very much like the Manor in appearance, but I assure you it feels very different to me."

Unable to stop herself, Hermione rushed to her friend and pulled him into a bear hug. "Oh Draco, I don't blame you. And…I'm really sorry about your mother. I didn't know her, but I know that you and Lucius loved her very much and I'm sorry she was taken from you."

Draco awkwardly patted her back as she hugged him. When she didn't let go despite his hesitant response, he gave into the comfort and rested his head on top of hers as he hugged her just as fiercely in return. "Thanks, Granger."

When she pulled back and looked up at him with glassy eyes, he snickered down at her. "You definitely could have been sorted into Hufflepuff, you know that don't you?"

She laughed and wiped her eyes as she pulled away. "Yes, well, I think the hat could safely place most students in _any_ house and it would work out. Even _you_ have a little 'puffer in you, Draco."

He looked at her as though she had sprouted wings. "Hogwarts would self-combust before placing a Malfoy in Hufflepuff."

She gave him a cautionary stare. "That may be true, but it doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"I think I need to tell father on you."

Hermione laughed as she teased. "Well, why break tradition? You always _were_ one to run to Daddy." Glancing out the window, she added offhandedly, "Besides I'll be the first to tell Lucius he's got a little 'puffer in him as well."

"Ha! The first and the last! Such a Gryffindor...lacking any trace of self-preservation. I venture you won't be able to walk for a week." Giving her up for a lost cause, Draco went to his room to change clothes.

A few minutes later they had floo'd to Hermione's flat where they intended to enjoy the afternoon. Hermione was treating herself to an afternoon off work and Draco agreed to join her.

Hermione yelled from the kitchen as Draco collapsed on the sofa. "I can make roast beef sandwiches, or we can have salads."

"Sandwich sounds good."

She was just putting the sandwiches on plates when she noticed an owl post sitting in the basket outside her kitchen window. Opening the window, she snatched the post before closing it quickly before she let any more of the cool air inside. The handwriting was messy and reminded her of Ron's.

_H-_

_I received the calling card you sent and am anxious to meet with you at The Dungeon. Just my luck though, my boss messaged me that I'm needed back at the reserve right away. It seems Big Bertha, the Swedish Short-Snout who isn't due to give birth for another couple weeks, delivered early and they need all tamers on hand. It will likely be several weeks to a couple months until I make it back, but I will be in touch as soon as I am able to meet up._

_It was great seeing you looking so happy at Easter. Thanks again!_

_Fondly,  
Charlie_

"What's that?" She could feel Draco peek over her shoulder as he spoke.

Hermione stuffed the post in her pocket as she turned to face him. "Nothing, just an owl… work stuff, you know."

Draco stepped back and crossed his arms, looking her disbelievingly. "You're a terrible liar. You know that, don't you?"

"Uh," she rolled her eyes. "I'm not lying!"

He smirked at her, shaking his head. "Make that a pathetic liar. You would have been eaten alive in Slytherin."

She smiled as she grabbed their sandwich plates and walked past him. "Hmm, well…given how talented the Slytherins I've come to know seem to be in _that_ department, I have no choice but to concede it was my loss."

Draco barked in laughter as he followed her.

Over an hour and a half later found them sitting opposite each other on the sofa, facing one another like bookends with their legs sharing the middle ground. A bowl of buttered popcorn on each of their laps, Hermione wiped her eyes with the crumpled tissue in her hand.

Draco looked from the movie to Hermione, an unsympathetic smirk on his face. "Why do you watch movies like this if they just make you cry?"

Dabbing her eyes again, Hermione smiled and shrugged. "I love this movie and I don't mind crying. It all comes out in the end, you'll see." She turned back to the screen as Mark was holding up the signs, professing his love for Keira Knightley's Juliet in _Love Actually_. Hermione's lip quivers when Juliet stepped outside and gave Mark a kiss before he dashed off, content he finally told her, and she went back upstairs to Mark's best friend and her husband, Peter.

Draco shook his head. "Well, that's just terrible. He's in love with the bird and she just gives him a little kiss and then he leaves? Where's _his_ happy ending?"

Hermione looked back at Draco as he continued. "That's going to be my father, you know. Pining after you while you are happily ensconced in your bungalow of submissive happiness with Snape."

"Are you still on that? We've talked about this multiple times Draco. Your father and I are close friends. He's an amazing man who has taught me _so_ much about myself. I love him to pieces, but it's not a romantic love! And he doesn't feel romantic love for me either, Draco. We have sexual chemistry and we…"

In an impatient voice, he interrupted her. "You know what, just drop it. Forget I said anything." Draco looked away and tried to put it out of his mind as the movie played on. He was tired of worrying about it. If Lucius wasn't willing to admit the nature of his feelings for the Gryffindor swot to her face and she was too dense to see what was right in front of her, well they didn't deserve his intervention. He had tried multiple times to no avail and he was done.

Hermione turned her focus back to the movie as well, but found her thoughts centered around the elder Malfoy instead of the film. _Why was Draco so insistent? Could he be right? No, the ferret was wrong. It was a ridiculous notion. Lucius would not fall in love with someone like me. He would want a woman of his social echelon, a woman of some property and rank. Most likely a Pureblood woman, although his views on that have relaxed. He is Lucius Malfoy for Merlin's sake! He may love me, but it's as a friend. I'm a part of his life he keeps hidden from the rest of the world_. _Practically a dirty little secret for pity's sake_. Hermione took a breath and refocused on the movie.

Unable to turn his brain off, Draco peeked at Hermione and couldn't stop himself from asking a question he had been wondering about for months. "What is it about Snape that has you so snared? I mean, you've told me how you feel about him, but you've never really told me why?"

When Hermione stared at him and didn't speak, he added, "Don't misunderstand me! I love my Godfather and I know that underneath the gruff is a good man. I know he's a good Dominant, too, but he's not someone I imagine in a romantic entanglement."

Hermione didn't find herself getting defensive like she did when Ron or Harry asked her about Severus. She knew Draco was sincere in his love for the man and he was merely trying to understand. "I don't know if I can explain it, Draco. From the first time I interacted with him at the club, before he even took his mask off and I knew who he was, I had a connection with him. As time passed, despite all the drama, the connection didn't fade. He stirs something visceral within me. Yes, he can quite stubborn, impatient, and very difficult, but I would be lying if I said that that part of him turned me off. That's who he is, and I've known that side of him since I was eleven-years-old. The truth is, underneath all that, underneath the hard shell, is a kind and affectionate and deliciously sexy wizard. With the exception of a few issues, we agree on almost everything. He's incredibly intelligent and we never run out of things to talk about. His dry wit makes me laugh, and even you can't deny what an amazing voice he has." She let out a sigh and smiled. "It's hard to explain. We just have that _je ne sais quoi_. I can see us building a life together."

Draco watched her dreamy expression while rubbing the back of his head, "Well, I'm certainly seeing a side of him I've never seen before. He's very attentive to you and he seems to be…I don't know…calmer somehow? A bit less intense maybe? The perma-scowl seems to fade a bit when he is around you." He paused and then sighed. "But here's my concern; when the time comes that you contract with him, will you be able to stand up to him then like you do now?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not worried about that. I stand up to your father just fine. He's even changed some of his long held submissive rules for me. I don't see how Severus will be any different. In truth he can be very reasonable…most of the time." She shifted her feet onto the floor. "I'm just going to have to make sure our contract truly spells out what I will and won't let him control in my life. He may be my Dominant when the time comes, but I won't become some little mouse he can walk all over, and I won't be his twenty-four/seven submissive. My intention is for it to be very much like with Lucius. I submit a couple times per week and the rest of the time we are like any other couple."

Draco didn't say anything as he considered her words. He hoped for her sake it would be as simple as she intimated. He would hate to see her, or Severus for that matter, get hurt. Of course, the one whom he _knew_ was going to get hurt in all this was his father, but there was nothing more he could do about that. He had tried.

Hermione stood and picked up the bowls of popcorn. "Pick out another movie. I'm going to mix up a face mask."

"A face mask?" he asked, clearly unsure what she was talking about.

"Yeah, you know, a facial?" she responded.

Draco cocked a brow. "A facial? I'll give you a special Malfoy facial right now."

"Don't be crude, Draco. My skin looks drab and needs a little pick me up. Once every few weeks I mix up a mask and revitalize my complexion. You should try it, it leaves your face feeling amazing."

Draco followed her into the kitchen and watched as she mixed up egg yolks, honey, olive oil and oatmeal. "That looks positively disgusting."

"Well, it's not for eating, it's for your pores and your skin would love it if you'd give it a chance."

"I think my skin is fine just as it is," Draco said as he felt his cheeks with his fingertips.

"Suit yourself."

He watched as Hermione spooned the gloop out of the bowl and spread it over her face. "What's it do for you?"

"It helps to draw out impurities and excess oils. My face feels amazing when I rinse it off."

"How long do you wear it?"

"Twenty minutes or so."

"Ok, fine."

"Fine?"

"I'll try it."

Hermione froze for a second, completely shocked. She never imagined he'd actually go for it. "Ok, just use this spoon and scoop it out and then use your fingers to apply it. Spread it out evenly."

"You do it."

"Seriously?"

"Just do it, Granger. I'll just make a mess of it."

Hermione tried to maintain a serious expression as she spread it over his face. His eyes were closed, and his forehead was pinched as though he were in pain. She spread it as evenly as possible. "Ok, it's done. Now we just wait twenty minutes and we rinse with warm water."

"This better be worth it."

"C'mon, lets watch another movie."

Draco followed her back into the living room where he sat on sofa and observed as she put another DVD in the player. "What are you putting in?"

" _Bridget Jones's Diary_. You'll love it."

"Are there any alien's in it? I liked that one about the alien in outer space."

"No, although I have the sequel to that, _Aliens,_ and we can watch it sometime if you want to."

Hermione hit play on the remote as she sat next to Draco on the sofa. This time they were side by side, their feet propped up on the coffee table in front of them. They snuggled together as the movie started.

"Is this another movie that's going to make you cry?" Draco asked skeptically as he watched the girl on the screen mouth lyrics into a rolled-up magazine as though it were a microphone. "She looks kinda…sad."

In that moment, the floo roared to life. Instantly Harry stumbled through, his glasses tumbling from his nose at his awkward entrance. He stepped forward and caught the flying spectacles in mid-air, proving he still had the quick reflexes of his Snitch-catching youth. Ron came through immediately behind him, almost knocking Harry to the floor.

"Give me a minute to get through before you come barreling behind, mate!" Harry barked, giving his friend a reproachful glare as he righted himself.

Draco threw his hands in the air and cut her a look of disbelief. "Fuck, Granger. I thought you blocked your floo?"

"I forgot!"

Harry and Ron paused as their glances moved from Hermione to Draco and back. Ron's brows knitted in confusion for a beat before his eyebrows shot up to the ceiling, a look of sudden relief on his face. "Oh, this explains sooo much." He peeked at the TV screen and then at Harry. "He's _gay_!"

Harry's brows shot up as he glanced at the TV screen and back at Draco. He nodded his head in understanding. "Chick flicks and face goo? Definitely not straight."

Hermione stood and approached the two. "Haha, guys. Draco is _not_ gay. Although there would be absolutely nothing wrong with it if he was!"

Ron was grinning. "Oh, we know. Live and let live I say." Pointing at Draco, he continued. "But _that_ man is gay. No straight man would have a facial while watching…" He glanced at the TV. "Geez, Mione! How many times have you watched that movie?"

Harry glanced at the screen, a look of recognition coming over his face. "Oh, yeah! Ginny loves this movie. We just watched it the…" But no one was paying attention to Harry as he spoke.

Hermione glanced nervously to her left at Draco who was now standing and scowling at her ginger-haired ex. His scowl disappeared as a small evil grin took its place. "Well, I volunteered to give her another type of facial entirely, but…"

"Oi!" Ron interrupted, stepping closer.

Throwing her hands out between the two wizards, Hermione scolded, "Draco! Enough!" Ron took a step back, but Hermione kept a hand on Draco's chest. The blond cut her a smirking glance before grabbing her hand and pulling her close towards him, wrapping his arms around her possessively and turning her so that her back was pressed to his front. He kissed her shoulder delicately and asked in a tone that suggested intimacy, "You want to tell them, or should I?"

Hermione paused her movements and then attempted to wiggle out of his grasp. He easily held her in place and Hermione began to panic in fear of what Draco was going to say. "Draco, don't…"

"You shouldn't hold this back from them any longer, love. They should know the _real_ you." He looked back at his childhood nemeses. "Hermione and I are members of a secret sex cult. Hermione here is a little sex-kitten, and not only does she have sex with me but she goes at it with other wizards and _witches,_ as well!"

Ron and Harry froze. Hermione turned beet red and stomped down on Draco's foot causing him to release her and yelp. "Fuck, Granger! That bleeding hurt!"

Mortified and on the verge of tears, Hermione opened her mouth to speak before she heard Ron and Harry laughing uproariously. She watched in stunned disbelief as her two best friends guffawed in merriment at what they had clearly perceived to be a joke.

"Good one, Malfoy. You had us going for about two seconds!" Harry chirped through his laughter.

Ron wiped his eyes as he looked at Hermione affectionately. "Our little Mione…a sex-kitten! As if!"

Hermione felt a mixture of relief and fury. Fury at Draco for saying the words but even more fury at her two best friends for finding it all so incomprehensible. Knowing she shouldn't, yet unable to stop herself, Hermione marched up to Harry and Ron, her hands planted firmly on her hips. "And what is so unbelievable about what he said?"

Ron smiled indulgently at her. "You're so cute when you get angry." He pulled her into a hug. "Promise me you'll never change, love." Hermione felt her anger deflate as Ron held her. Common sense took over and she realized her frustration wasn't really with Harry and Ron, but with the ferret still standing behind her.

She stepped away from Ron and turned back to Draco, a saccharine smile on her face. His look was self-satisfied, clearly pleased with what he had gotten away with, as though he knew they wouldn't believe him. Hermione stepped towards him and patted his cheek, causing a clump of oatmeal to fall to the floor. "Well, Draco. It was only a matter of time before someone found out about your true…inclinations." She batted her eyelashes.

"Wait, what?" Draco looked from Hermione to Harry and Ron who were looking at him with understanding and… _acceptance_?!

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, I mean, who cares if you're gay, mate? No need to hide it!"

"Is it because of your Dad?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded. "Oh man, I bet that's why." He looked at Draco with something close to pity. "Lucius Malfoy would likely freak out if he knew."

"Well, you're going to have to tell him at some point," Ron added.

Rolling his eyes, Draco barked, "For the love of Quidditch! I am not gay!"

Hermione looked back at Harry and Ron. "He's not ready to come out yet, guys. Don't tell anyone, ok?'

Harry and Ron both shook their heads. Ron added, "We won't tell a soul. Honestly! For some reason this makes me like you so much more, Malfoy. It really explains a lot."

Harry looked at his watch. "We've got to go, Ron." He turned his attention to Hermione, his demeanor suddenly serious. "The reason we dropped by, Mione, is because a Muggle-born witch was attacked in Diagon Alley today. The perp tried to Apparate with her, but she managed to deter him with pepper spray of all things. She said he was wearing a mask and she couldn't see his face. It just had small holes for his eyes, nose, and mouth. Our colleagues are concerned it's Dolohov. Truth is it could have been anyone, and might have nothing to do with Dolohov, but our first thought was of you." He glanced at Ron and then shot her an earnest plea, "Just be careful, ok?"

Hermione nodded, "Sure, of course. Thanks." In truth she hadn't thought much about Dolohov in weeks.

"Ok, then," Ron said, walking towards the floo. "See you on Sunday?"

"Yeah, see you guys then."

As soon as the guys left, Draco turned to Hermione. "How could you tell them I'm gay? What the hell?"

"Me? You're the one who basically told them I'm a submissive."

"How do you figure that? I merely teased we were in a sex cult, which I knew neither one of them would believe!"

"And what if they had? What if they asked questions? What if they didn't let it drop?"

"I would have ridiculed them for being so gullible and that would have been the end of it! But now they think I'm gay!"

"Who cares if they do!"

Draco stared at her for a moment and then shrugged. "True. I don't really care what they think." He flaked more oatmeal off his cheek. "Can we get this off? My face feels like a tight rubber band."

They washed the now dried up masks off their faces at the kitchen sink. "So, have you talked to M anymore since the one time?"

Draco was drying his face with a hand towel. "No, not really. I mean, we say hello as we pass each other. I thought I caught her watching me the other night, but there was a demonstration going on behind me and I think that's where her focus was."

Hermione took the towel from him, wiping off a spot of oatmeal he missed near his hairline. "I'm sorry, Draco. Maybe in time you two will become friends."

"Nah, she's not interested."

Sensing his declining mood, she took his hand. "C'mon. I'll eject the chick flick and we can watch _Aliens_ instead. You'll love it."

When she started towards the living room, he grabbed her shoulder causing her to look back at him questioningly.

In that moment Draco looked so much like Lucius it was startling. His steel-grey eyes were focused and intense. The younger Malfoy could be quite formidable when he wanted to be. She swallowed as she looked up at him "What is it?" she asked tentatively, her voice soft with an edge of concern.

"Just… be careful, Hermione. Dolohov is… he made Bellatrix look about as threatening as a _Whitney the Wistful Witch_ doll when he was at his most dangerous. He's…" Draco shook his head. "You just need to be careful, okay? I couldn't bear it if something happened to you."

Hermione nodded her head, finding herself at a loss for words at the show of true concern Draco was demonstrating. Sure, she had known he cared about her and that they were becoming close, but in this moment, she felt as though he were family.

"I promise to be careful, Draco. Nothing is going to happen to me."

After a brief pause, he gave her a small smile and took her hand, leading her back towards the sofa.

* * *

Several hours later Draco entered _The Dungeon_ , pleased to find not only his father, but Snape in the office as well. He closed the door behind him as he strode in. "Glad I caught you both." He sat on the edge of Lucius' desk causing his father to look up at him and nod hello. Severus had merely grunted a response as he kept working.

Draco lifted a paper-clip and tossed it back and forth between his hands. "I was hanging out with Granger today when Potter and Weasel showed up."

Lucius and Snape clearly did not find this news worthy as they both continued with their respective tasks without comment.

"Potter said a Muggle-born witch was attacked. The wizard tried to Apparate with her, but she got away and was unable to identify him. The dorky duo stopped by to tell Hermione to be careful. They were concerned it might be Dolohov."

Finally getting the reaction he felt his news deserved, Draco watched as Lucius and Snape exchanged concerned looks. Snape swiveled his chair and looked up at Draco. "Did they say anything else? When it happened or where?"

"I think it happened today and it was right in Diagon Alley. Pretty ballsy if you ask me."

Lucius shook his head. "Not Dolohov's style. He's too cautious for such a risky endeavor."

Snape studied Lucius, contemplating his dismissal. "Well, he's been in Azkaban for years. Who's to say what his frame of mind is like? What mind he has left, that is."

"Well, whatever." Draco quipped. "All I know is, she listens to you two more than me. I'm not convinced she took their warning as seriously as should have, much less mine."

Lucius took a deep breath as he tossed his quill on his desk. "She's due in thirty minutes for our session. I'll talk to her."

"So will I," added Snape.

Draco shoved away from his father's desk. "Oh, and by the way? Hermione informed me, in her _infinite_ wisdom, that the Sorting Hat could place any student into any house and that the students would be fine. She went on to say I could have been sorted into Hufflepuff because I have, and I quote, 'a little puffer in me.'"

Snape chuckled, and Lucius looked up at his son in shock. "She _said_ that?"

Draco nodded, a shit-eating grin on his face. His father was reacting just as he predicted he would.

Lucius shook his head. "What is that witch thinking? As if a Malfoy would ever be sorted into _Hufflepuff._ " He made a face of disgust.

Thrilled with his bit of revenge for her letting the duo believe he was gay, Draco added, "She said you had puffer in you as well, father, and that she would be the first to tell you."

"Me? Puffer in me?" Lucius laughed. "Oh, surely she was teasing, Draco. She wasn't serious."

"I assure you father, she was quite serious."

Lucius thought for a moment. "Well, it seems our little Gryffindor is in need of some education this evening."

Snape looked at Draco questioningly, clearly wondering if Hermione had said the same about him. Draco smirked, "She may be a Gryffindor, but she doesn't have a death wish!"

Snape seemed appeased and merely went back to his work.

* * *

Two nights later found Hermione sitting around a table in the main part of the club with Draco. She shifted uneasily in her seat as she let out a huff of annoyance.

Draco teased her knowingly, "You're squirming an awful lot tonight, Beaves. Everything ok?"

Hermione shot him a scathing look as he chuckled. "Like you don't know," she bit out. "Honestly, I bet you didn't wait five minutes after leaving my flat to rush to Lucius and tell him what I said."

Draco sipped his drink. "More like twenty minutes. I had to run by my place to shower first. I smelled like oatmeal."

"I thought we submissives were supposed to stick together!"

"Where on earth did you get that idea?" After a chuckle he added, "Slytherin, remember? Wouldn't want you to think I have a little _puffer_ in me after all." Draco watched her agitation as she fought back the retort she desperately wanted to spew at him. "What, nothing to say?"

"In the interest of self-preservation, I decline to comment," she told him through a locked jaw.

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of witnessing her humiliation, Hermione tried to stop squirming and sat as still as she could. She could only hope the ferret would be in the loo or somewhere else when the hour struck. Looking at the clock she saw it was only six-thirty. Lucius had informed her to arrive at six and enjoy herself with her friends until he arrived. She was certain that in light of his _other_ instruction, she would not see him before seven and possibly not until after eight. She sighed internally. In truth, she only had herself to blame.

Trying to put it out of her mind, her attention was drawn to her left where she spotted M enter through the main doors. Hermione immediately glanced at Draco to find he was watching the Dominatrix as well. Hermione acknowledged to herself that when Draco looked at M these days, it wasn't with the look of yearning she had become accustomed to seeing. His expression was almost monotone but for a small hint of resignation or sadness in his eyes. In truth she could probably only recognize it because she knew it was what he was feeling. Strangely, after M had walked to the bar, Draco's saddened gaze was still on the entrance. Hermione looked back and noticed a tall, willowy woman with long blond hair. Draco was staring as though he were daydreaming.

"Draco? You ok?"

Not looking away, Draco offered a sad smile. "Today is my mother's birthday."

Hermione felt a heaviness in her heart and in her gut. Looking back at the front of the room, she could see the resemblance. "Draco…I didn't know. It must be a difficult day for you."

Looking back towards her, he offered her a small shrug. "We went to the estate cemetery today…father and I. It's tradition. Every year on her birthday, weather permitting of course, we picnic with her. Tinny sets up a spread under the tree next to her and we drink Mom's favorite elven wine. We talk to her as though she was joining us." As though he was sure she would ask, he added quickly. "Yes, we have her portrait in the Manor, but it's not the same. The portrait is her essence and it looks like her, but it's not _really_ her. When we sit outside, we can almost believe she is there and understanding everything we say. When the breeze blows the branches of the weeping willow over us, I can almost believe it's her way of participating in the conversation."

Hermione reached out and took Draco's hand, giving it a small squeeze. Words weren't necessary. After a beat, he looked from her hand to her eyes. "Hufflepuff," he accused with a smirk, but he couldn't fool her. She smiled softly in return. Teasing and joking was his way. His eyes were bright with a bit of moisture proving how close he was to succumbing to his emotion. He let out a huff of air and sipped his drink after he pulled his hand away.

Hermione couldn't help but wonder how Lucius was feeling. It had to be a hard day for him as well. Maybe it would be best to postpone their session tonight. If she had known ahead of time, she would have suggested it. She decided she would ask him and let him know it was fine with her to skip tonight.

Her thoughts were pulled in another direction when Etan and Rose approached looking happy and holding hands. "Hello, Doll," Etan mused with a smile before turning to Draco and offering a greeting.

Rose looked like she was about to burst as she watched Etan. "Yes, love. You have permission to speak to your friend."

Rose squealed, "Doll! You look beautiful! Wherever did you get that dress?"

Hermione stood and pulled Rose into a hug and then looked shamefacedly back at Etan. "Oops? Was that ok?" Hermione had no wish to get her friend in trouble.

Etan laughed. "I'll deny her nothing when it comes to you, Doll." Hermione smiled brightly and pulled Rose into the booth next to her as Etan slid in next to Draco. Hermione and Rose fell into easy conversation. Hermione was now used to Rose's exuberance and found it endearing. She even found herself enjoying talking about topics which used to bore her to tears, such as outfits and shoes. The wardrobe discussion was short tonight however, as Rose was excitedly discussing the vacation she and Etan were planning to Asturias, Spain. An exclusive wizarding resort with luxuries Hermione had only ever heard about.

She found herself in awe of the amazing trip her friends would be embarking on. It suddenly occurred to Hermione that Etan was a man of means. She was ashamed that she had never enquired about his profession. Their conversations always seemed to revolve around Rose or the D/s scene. She listened intently as Draco was able to suggest day trips and adventures they could partake in while at their destination. Of course, Draco had been where they were going. Draco had traveled most of the world in his short life. Hermione didn't envy wealth for personal possessions. She did envy the freedom it gave people, particularly the freedom to travel.

It was when the large wall clock struck seven that Hermione felt her stomach fall to the floor. Knowing she had no choice, she reluctantly stood on the booth and then onto the table. Draco, Etan and Rose looked up at her with shocked expressions as she spoke loudly to the room. "Please, can I have your attention." The conversation around them came to a stop as surprised and expectant faces looked up at her. Taking a breath and letting it out she forced herself to say the words she was dreading. "I feel compelled to state that I was wrong and meant no offense when I said earlier this week, in a _private_ conversation," she cut Draco an accusing glare before looking back at the room, "that the Malfoy men both had a little ' _puffer_ in them. Clearly, I was off my rocker and no Malfoy could ever be _anything_ but one hundred percent Slytherin!" As she said the last three words she stared into the corner where she knew one of the camera lenses was. She would wager a year's salary that Lucius and Severus were having a good laugh watching her through the bloody thing right now. Unable to resist, she added, "But Gryffindor is the best house in Hogwarts history!"

Etan and Rose were laughing heartily, and Draco was shaking his head at her. "You'll never learn," he whispered as he offered her his hand. Just as she was about to step down onto the seat, she let out a squeal when strong arms suddenly grabbed her hips and heaved her over a shoulder. Draco was shaking his head as hard smacks began to rain on her bottom. She laughed as Lucius carried her towards the stairs, giving her friends a little wave and mouthing "Wish me luck!" at them. They were laughing and returned her goodbye with waves of their own.

Lucius continued to land an occasional smack on her bottom as they made their way down the stairs to their private room for the evening, causing Hermione to keep giggling the entire time. When they arrived at the playroom and the door was closed securely behind them, he set her on her feet and immediately covered her mouth with his.

Hermione melted into the familiar safety of him and wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands sought purchase on the backs of her thighs before he lifted her against the nearest wall. They kissed for a long time, long enough that she could barely remember her own name.

When he finally ended the passionate embrace, his voice was thick when he told her to prepare herself for him. She hesitated, though, which prompted a question. "Something wrong, Doll?"

"Not really, Master," she responded demurely. "I would like to speak with you freely for a moment, please."

"Of course," he answered curiously.

With a careful breath, she raised her eyes. "Draco shared with me what today is," she started carefully. "I just want to make sure you're okay. We don't have to do this tonight, we can reschedule. I'm free tomorrow night, the new manager needed the day off for a wedding, so Severus will be working."

Lucius looked surprised for just a second before his face smoothed, however his eyes remained emotional. He reached for Hermione and pulled her into a warm embrace. "I think you are the sweetest woman I have ever known, Hermione Granger," he told her sincerely. "I'm grateful you have reentered my life. The answer to your question is yes. Yes, today was difficult. You know what made it easier than in years past, though? You. I was looking forward to seeing your smile. Narcissa has been gone nine years, and while I still miss her every day – and will continue to miss her until the day I die – I am coping better than I have in a long time." He pulled back and rested his hands on her shoulders. "You, my dear, are a large part of the reason that the ache in my chest where the memory of my wife lies has eased. Thank you for simply being you, for bringing a feminine presence back to my life. And to Draco's. You have become so much to the both of us."

Hermione felt tears fill her eyes at his sweet words and she wrapped her arms around his waist tightly. As she buried her face in his chest, she was a mix of elation with no small amount of discomfort. Here this man was – making her feel like she mattered more than anyone in his world. Once again, she thought how her feelings for him were borderline inappropriate considering the relationship she was building with Snape.

She forced the thought out of her mind. She couldn't – wouldn't – do this to herself. Lucius was not in love with her and she was head over heels for Snape. Fuck – she had to compartmentalize. She had to push this down. She wasn't going to deal with it right now.

Lucius was unaware of the turmoil his submissive was experiencing because he was too far gone in his own mind. It had been an emotional day, and what he had planned for the night would wring them both out. Not only emotionally, but physically as well.

Very gently, he spun her. She followed his silent guidance with no questions, and Lucius once again felt an unmistakable connection with her, not to mention pride in his teaching of her and joy in how far she had come. He was not going to be doing any instructing tonight. It was all things they had covered. There was very, very little left for him to teach her, if anything at all. She would learn anything else from others she interacted with. He had given her a thorough introduction that would help her navigate her way through the lifestyle. He tapped his wand lightly on her head, freeing the severe bun her hair was in while simultaneously detangling it.

Still without speaking, he French plaited her hair in two long, thick braids so they hung over each shoulder and secured the ends with a sticking charm. She was trembling at his touch, which was always thrilling. She might never love him the way she loved Severus, but no one could deny that their sexual chemistry was off the charts. At just about four months into their arrangement, they knew each other's bodies very well. They could read each other's responses like books. They knew what the other needed.

Lucius slowly started to undress her, which she had to find odd, but he didn't care. He always had her prepare herself for him, but tonight he had changed his mind. He wanted to prepare her instead. He wanted to touch every inch of her before he even started their scene, so he did. Lucius trailed his fingers over her skin with every article of clothing he removed. While dong so he was able to marvel in the way her skin erupted in gooseflesh, how her nipples tightened, and the way her breathing accelerated.

When she was naked, he led her to a Y-bench that had a small back rest and indicated she settle herself. With a flick of his wand, her thighs were splayed wide and tied to the bench and her feet were loosely tied so they were pulled up under her quads.

"Straighten your shoulders and push out your breasts, put your hands behind your back as if you were standing in the Wait position." Another flick of his wand and her wrists were tied to the opposite elbow behind her back and her breasts were crisscrossed and push impossibly out from her body. She couldn't help the low moan that left her mouth.

He summoned a red rubber ball gag from one of the self-cleansing shelves and didn't even have to ask before her mouth fell open. Her lashes cast a shadow across the swell of her cheek bones in the torch light as her gaze remained averted and she looked incredible after he clasped the gag.

He moved across the room to sheath his wand in his cane and set it on the small table along with her pile of discarded clothing before he collected his favorite tool, a heavy suede flogger, and returned to her. "Chin up high, eyes on the ceiling or closed," he commanded, and she complied. Immediately, he began to rain heavy handed blows across her beautifully presented breasts.

Hermione sucked a breath in through her nose so hard at the first strike that a whistling noise ensued before a tight grunt left her. He circled her methodically landing hit after hit across her breasts, her abdomen, and her thighs. She could feel her pussy creating its own lubrication – not that she hadn't already been wet after he single handedly stripped her bare – but the amount of fluid pooling at her opening would soon start dripping, she was sure of it.

She let out a small shriek when he changed the trajectory of the flogger, so it swiped across her pussy lips. "Mmmmrrr!" she groaned when the second, third, and fourth strike found the same purchase. She started wiggling when the fifth hit came, and her clit started throbbing. Little grunts and squeaks left her with the next five and then he stopped, letting her breathe heavily through her nose while saliva started slipping out of her mouth around the ball gag.

Her skin was pleasantly warm and prepared for him, and her pussy was begging for his attention. She opened her eyes and refocused her attention of the raftered ceiling when he began encircling her throat with rope above her collar. It was rough and would most likely chafe a bit. It was starting to get a little warm for scarf wearing these days, so she would have to either heal the marks (which she loathed doing) or employ the use of a glamour.

Her eyes whirled wildly when she felt him connect another rope to her neck, she looked over in surprise to see him attaching a large, weighted ball to the suspended rope he had just attached to her throat. He held it slack with one hand before speaking.

"Look at me." She did. "Some new breath control methods tonight, Doll," he told her with a sneering grin. "Show me your safe signal."

Immediately she responded by shrugging her shoulders three times in quick succession. _Please stop now_ , she chanted in her head with the movement.

"Good girl." He gently let the rope go taut. The weighted ball dropped and the binds around her neck cut off her air and the blood flow from her carotid, making her vision go dark at the edges. She jerked and groaned loudly when she felt two long fingers slide into her cunt roughly and begin vigorously stimulating her g-spot with loud, wet sounds. _Heaven…this is fucking heaven._

Lucius could not take his eyes off his witch as she lost herself to his ministrations. Her skin was flushed a delicate pink, her face going ruddier by the moment with the lack of oxygen and blood. He reached with the hand not stimulating her to lessen the effects of the weight, letting her drag in a couple of breaths before dropping it again and redoubling his efforts on her pussy.

Her first orgasm ripped through her furiously, causing her to spurt liquid over his fingers and down his wrist to pool on the floor as she threw her head back and scream in her throat. He lifted the weight again but did not stop his movements. She writhed under his touch, her body bowing fruitlessly in her bindings. In less than two minutes of vigorous pumping and the occasional release of the weight so she wouldn't pass out, she came again – just as hard as the first time. He undid the weight, giving her time to come down from her second high while he took the bindings off her neck.

Lucius was painfully hard, his cock straining against the silk of his boxers. He continued to let her breathe and calm from her climaxes while he removed his tie and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt. Then he rolled his sleeves and removed his belt. He was flushed with his arousal but was not ready to remove his clothing.

He summoned a vibrator and, without warning, moved back in on his prey. Pressing the vibrator to Hermione's already over-stimulated clit with one hand, he used the fingers of his other hand to pinch and roll her peaked nipples. Her squeal and grunt were satisfying, the sheen of sweat he could see over her entire body only heightened his own desires. She was screaming her third release in minutes, her eyes wide and fixed on the ceiling as he had instructed.

A small wave of melancholy overcame him. Fuck his rules, he wanted her eyes tonight. "Doll," he rasped, slightly taken aback at how gravely his own voice was. He maintained the vibe on her clit while she jerked and wriggled, trying to get away from him while making desperate noises in her throat. "I want your eyes on mine tonight as much as possible."

Hermione pulled her focus from the rafters of the room to meet Lucius' steely gaze, surprised by his demand. She held his stare with hers, feeling her face crumple as her next orgasm barreled down on her.

"You're going to come again, aren't you baby girl?" He smirked wickedly, when she nodded frantically in the seconds before her face contorted around her gag and she let out a loud, shrieking moan as her body started trembling violently. "Again," he demanded, not letting up with the vibe or the nipple stimulation.

Dragging in deep, unsteady breaths Hermione desperately tried to regain her equilibrium, but she was coming again in no time. She thrashed against her bindings, her body feeling over-sensitized and raw. What was he trying to do to her?!

"Again!" he demanded, and she let out a sob as tears instantly sprang to her eyes with how overwhelmed she was. She felt fingers push into her sopping channel again, and her breath shuddered violently as it pushed her over the edge once more. She screamed with the climax, her throat raw. She had lost count of how many times he had made her come. They had barely even started, and she knew it. Her Friday night sessions were always intense and long. Often lasting two to three hours.

Lucius wrung one more orgasm out of her body before turning the vibe off and sliding his fingers out of her. Fuck, he was a mess. She was soaked and overheated and in need of some transitional care, but his erection was so primed for her it was beyond painful. _Push it down, Luc, you can fuck her in a few minutes._

He moved back towards her, standing between her thighs as he slid his hands around her neck to the clasp of the gag at her nape. He removed it before using his handkerchief to wipe the spittle from around her mouth and chin. It had dripped off her chin, and the valley of her breasts were slick with the lubrication, evident by the way the skin glistened in the torch light. He kissed her again, delving his tongue deep and seeking out her own while smoothing his fingers soothingly around the marks left on her neck from the rope and ball weight.

Wandlessly and non-verbally, he released all her bindings and supported her as she slumped into him. Still kissing hotly, he rubbed feeling back into her shoulders and arms. After a few long moments, he pulled back and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Exquisite, my dear. Get yourself some water and then I want you side lying on your left on the bed, left leg straight, right drawn up to your chest."

"Yes Master." She stood on wobbly legs and made her way to the cabinet where beverages and supplies were kept. She used her wand to chill a bottle of water and drank deeply while listening to him prepare what she thought might be a third scenario. Fuck, he was being intense tonight. She finished the water and tossed the bottle into the appropriate receptacle before quickly making her way to the small bed.

The bed in this room was more like an oversized padded bench. The size of a normal double, it was smooth, padded leather with no linens and had metal head and footboards. This allowed good purchase of hands and knees (and any other body parts that needed firm footing) and made it easy to be tied to. She slid to the middle of the bed and positioned herself as directed. Already, her body was anticipating his next move. It didn't matter that she had already come more than five times, she was ready for more.

She had no warning before her body was stretched. Her left foot was tied to the footboard and her left knee was tied to the right side of the bedframe. Her right foot was fixed to her left knee and there was a rope strung from her right knee to the left side of the bed, so she could not straighten it at all. Another rope tied her wrists spread wide to each side of the headboard and her right elbow was entwined and fixed to the right side of the bed.

The bondage forced her to stay on her left hip; her pussy and arsehole exposed to his viewing (and fucking) pleasure. The way her upper body was positioned ensured that she lay flat on her upper back, her breasts and mouth facing the ceiling – also available to him.

Hermione searched for Lucius, remembering his request to see her eyes tonight. She found him at the foot of the bed and completely naked. His thick, gorgeous prick was fisted in one hand while his head was cocked lazily as he watched her test her bindings. "Do I have you sufficiently trapped, love?" he teased with a smirk.

"Yes, Master," she answered with a similar expression on her face. It had taken them very little time indeed to figure out that Hermione's biggest turn on was being helpless. Being held down, strung up, tied to, shackled, and so on made her leak like a sieve. They rarely participated in a scene where she wasn't firmly stuck in place for him to do to her as he pleased.

"Good," he answered before he gracefully crawled over the edge of the bed and straddled her legs. "Accio wand," he muttered, holding his hand out. A second later there was a satisfying slap as the wood met his right palm. With his left hand, he pulled her arse cheeks apart, bringing her dripping cunt and pink rosebud into view. She grunted and wiggled underneath him, and he clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Be patient, love, or there will be consequences."

He settled the wand next to them on the mattress and turned his attention to using both hands to stimulate her bottom. She moaned breathily as he pulled her pussy lips apart, sliding his warm fingers through her slippery arousal. He played with the opening of her vagina before sliding his finger back to the ring of muscles at her rear.

"Yes, please!" she hissed, causing Lucius to chuckle darkly. She gave a grunt of annoyance when his fingers moved away from her arsehole and purposely wiggled her bottom shamelessly.

Quick as a flash, Lucius snapped up his wand and poked the underside of one breast with it while muttering " _Scintillam_!" This cause a short, low jolt of electrical current to zap the tender flesh and Hermione screamed her surprise before panting and squeezing her eyes shut as tears clouded her vision.

"I'm sorry, Master," she breathed after the startling jolt of pain subsided. "I'll be still."

"You will, or there will be more," he promised darkly. Both knew he wasn't really mad at her, it was all part of their fun. He returned his attention to her bum, lazily stroking her tender, needy flesh and eliciting more delicious sounds of encouragement from her pouty lips.

She wiggled again a moment later, when he turned his attention to himself, grasping his aching cock in one hand. Just as quickly as the last time, he zapped the curve of one flank and then the dip of her waist with his wand, eliciting another screech and gasp from her. "Please, Master," she begged. "I'm sorry. I need you to fuck me, please!"

"Good girls get fucked, Doll. Are you my good girl?" Lucius asked demandingly.

"Yes, Master, I'm your good girl. I'll always be your good girl!" she promised enthusiastically.

He didn't hesitate before plunging into her pussy, causing a shuddering yip to leave her at the suddenness of his intrusion. "Yes, gods yes!" she praised as a guttural noise of appreciation left Lucius.

"Fuck you feel good, baby girl," he told her before adjusting himself better on his knees, so he could up the pace. The way her body was angled made her already tight passage impossibly tighter. He fucked her hard and fast for a couple minutes, making her come hard just before pulling out of her with no warning. She shouted her protest, which earned her two more shocks before he let his wand clatter to the floor.

He moved up her body and straddled her chest, his knees digging into her armpits. Hermione opened her mouth automatically for him without being asked and he grinned maniacally at her. Pushing the flared head of his cock past her lips, he sighed deeply when she sucked him into the back of her throat. Lucius grasped the back of her neck with both hands and started to fuck her face, pausing here and there to let her catch her breath or stay her gag reflex.

"You are such a good little cock sucker, my pretty slut, aren't you?" he goaded and flashed teeth at her when he felt her hum of agreement. He pulled his length out of her mouth and tilted his pelvis until his bollocks were suffocating her. Fuck, he loved how he didn't even have to direct her anymore. She automatically knew to suckle them and use her tongue to massage his perineum. When her body jerked with the need for breath, he pulled back, let her gasp in air, and then shoved his cock back into her mouth.

He stroked a few times before grasping the headboard and moving into a squatting position. After letting her breathe one last time, he shoved his prick down her throat and started fucking her mouth as if it were her pussy. "Take it all!" he commanded as he came with a shout, continuing to slide deliciously in and out of the ring of muscles at the back of her throat.

The moment the last spurt left him, he pulled back and stood above her before shakily moving to the edge of the bed and sinking down into a seated position. He gasped in air and forced his heartrate to slow while he listened to her swallowing hard, trying to clear her throat. She was quiet after a time, and when his breathing returned to normal, he summoned the vibe a second time.

Lucius tucked the vibe between her thighs, the pressure of the position kept it focused right over her clit. He turned it on and she moaned and began panting erratically. He left the vibe to its own devices and positioned himself so he was sitting next to her, so they could watch each other carefully.

Hermione figured out what was going to happen the second before his large, smooth palm covered her mouth and nose. He held her whisky eyes with his grey, his lips turned up in a gentle smirk. Her eyes fluttered as the vibe brought her nearer and nearer to her next climax. She pulled in a deep breath when he released her only to let it out on a startled gasp when he slapped her face gently, but firmly, multiple times before covering her airway again. Her body squirmed and the tightening in her core intensified until it broke just as her vision darkened from lack of air.

Again, his hand was gone, and she sucked in oxygen as her climax wracked her body, causing her to pull at all her restraints. She tried to shy away from the vibe, which had slipped away clit with her writhing, but Lucius did not allow it. He pushed it back into place and held it with one hand as his other covered her face again. His eyes locked to hers a second time. His expression was intense, and his eyes were filled with deep emotion and affection.

Hermione felt as though she were suspended in time and she absentmindedly recognized her immersion into subspace. Before she even knew it, another climax ripped through her and she didn't even remember Lucius allowing her to breathe before a new one was building all over again. For the second time that night, she lost count of how many times he pulled an orgasm out of her. She registered continued breath play and more face slapping, but the next time she was fully aware was when she found herself curled against Lucius' chest while he massaged cream into the red rings around her wrists.

His voice rumbled low in his chest and, even though she couldn't make out the words quite yet, she knew he was praising and soothing her. After an undetermined amount of time, she tipped her head up. She was completely knackered, and was about to tell him so, but the intense darkness of his lust filled eyes filled her belly with need all over again.

"Can you sit up?" he asked her.

"Yes, Master," she answered automatically before using his chest as leverage to move into a seated position.

"Good girl," he said softly before kissing her head and getting off the bed. He fetched her more water after drinking a bottle himself and let her rest while he prepared the next scene.

Lucius was feeling odd. His chest ached with something he couldn't quite define. He was a mix of pride, love, lust, and many other emotions, however, something was happening that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Hermione was watching him expectantly when he turned around and he noted her eager expression. If he had counted correctly, he had made her come eleven times thus far. It wasn't their record, but it was getting close. He, himself, was ready to go again, his cock standing proud and straight from his body as he observed her. "Come." He crooked a finger at her and she stood, stumbling slightly on her trembling legs. When she was positioned in front of him, he spun her so that her back was to his front.

Using his wand, Lucius tied her arms into the same Wait position as their first scene of the evening before encircling her breasts again. He then looped the ropes down to encircle both thighs at the juncture of her pelvis. This left three ropes shaped like a triangle coming off her, one from each hip and one from the middle of her back, that he directed to the ceiling to secure themselves. "Ready?" he asked.

"Yes, Master."

He poked his wand hard at the ceiling, raising her until her body was suspended at just the right height before turning his attention to each of her ankles. He laced them with rope as well before adding their excess to the ceiling, pulling her into a swinging spread eagle position.

When next he caught her eye, he grinned. Her heated gaze was bright with excitement and her plump lips were parted, her tongue dancing out occasionally to wet the bottom pillow enticingly. "Are you enjoying yourself, love?" he teased while stepping between her splayed thighs.

"More than you can imagine, Master," she answered with a sweet smile. Hermione's gaze dropped longingly to his lips before raising back to meet his eyes. It was an obvious bid to be kissed and he did so hungrily. Gripping her waist in both hands, he slid his cock teasingly through her folds, stimulating her so she moaned wantonly into his kisses.

Lucius chuckled against her mouth when she rolled her hips, trying to guide him inside of her. "No, no, my dear. It will not be that easy," he tormented laughingly. He stimulated himself by pumping his prick a few more times through the folds of her sex before stepping away and wandlessly summoning a small leather strap. He reached the end of one of her lovely legs and gripped her heel in one hand while leering at her. Large eyes were watching him apprehensively. She was not super fond of foot play, but it wasn't a limit for her. Her feet were very sensitive, and Lucius loved the way she squirmed and set her body swinging in the air when he started tapping gently with the strap on the arch of her foot.

 _Crack!_ He slapped her foot firmly, right over the arch, causing her whole body to tense and jerk as she screamed, "Fuck!" before hissing loudly. He started tapping immediately following the crack. She whimpered and then gritted her teeth in anticipation for the next blow.

He landed four strikes to the sole of each foot before turning his attention to her backside. He chose a longer, more flexible strap. "Ten smacks, love," he told her, his voice full of desire. "After every hit I want you to count and say 'Slytherin in the best Hogwarts house', do you understand?"

The silence that followed was so absolute, he almost laughed even though he couldn't see what he was sure was a stunned look on her face. Slowly he rounded her and, sure enough, he caught wide eyes and parted lips.

When he started laughing aloud, her lips pulled down into a mock frown and she spoke very firmly above his chortles. "Master, are you asking me to _lie_?" Her voice was teasing and light. They both knew she would say it to please him, but not without a bit of a fight and a possible threat.

"Doll," he told her warningly, "you are the one who was unable to follow your instructions earlier. I told you I would continue your humiliation, being you had not yet learned your lesson."

Hermione studied him, his face was smooth and serious, but the sparkle in his eyes made her heart leap. She would do _anything_ for him, he need only ask. "As you wish, Master," she sighed.

The first crack was light, a glancing blow that barely stung, but warmed her arse nicely. "One. Slytherin is the best Hogwarts house," she muttered petulantly, knowing it would not be good enough.

She was correct. "Louder…with more…conviction, love," he goaded. _Crack!_

She grunted. "Two! Slytherin is the best Hogwarts house!"

"Much better, now add some _passion_ ," he ribbed. _Crack!_

"THREE! Slytherin is the _best_ Hogwarts house!"

"Excellent! Keep it up, and I'll eat you out so good when we're all done, baby girl. I want you to come all over my face." _Crack!_

The number four was much harder than the last three and she shouted out on a groan, "Fuck! Four! Slytherin IS THE BEST HOGWARTS HOUSE, MASTER!" Fuck lying, fuck being embarrassed. Fuck Lucius Malfoy and his idea of fun and humiliation. All she wanted was to make sure his face was buried between her thighs when her spanking was complete.

Less than three minutes later, her blond God was on his knees, praying at her alter. He strummed her clit with his tongue, sucked and nibbled at her pussy lips, and fucked her dripping cunt with his fingers until she detonated around them, screaming her devotion to him as her juices sluiced down his hand and wrist before dripping off his elbow.

Then he was in her, and she surrounded him as he fucked her pussy so hard she could feel him in her stomach. She had barely come down from her last high before he was throwing her off the cliff all over again. She literally growled her release while he held her tightly in his arms as he fucked her through her orgasm. She cried out when he pulled away a moment later, but barely had time to register the loss before he was clipping something little and vibrating to her clit before spinning her and ramming into her mons again from behind.

He pulled and twisted and slapped her nipples while he pounded away inside her. For the _third_ time that night, she lost count of how many orgasms he caused as she screamed and groaned incoherently through each and every one of them.

In the end, Lucius was almost mindless as he came with her. He jerked his hips through their combined orgasm and had the peace of mind to slip the vibrating clit clamp off her, so her body could calm. He stayed buried in her and held her to him while she remained suspended, her back to his front, while his world came back around him.

When it did, his stomach dropped. Suddenly, he realized why he had felt so off before they started their third scenario.

She had been beyond perfect tonight.

There was nothing left to teach her.

Anything she had left to learn, could be learned with Snape. She had all the basics she needed.

It was time to let her go.

Silently, he dropped his forehead to the back of her head and pressed gentle kisses to the split between her two plaits. His arms tightened of their own accord and she mewled in loss when his rapidly softening member slipped from her sheath. This would be the last time he would be with her as her Master. Depending upon how Snape wanted to proceed with her as his submissive, it might be the last time he ever got to be with her – the end.

He took a step back and numbly released the ties on her ankles, letting them drop carefully to the floor. He gave her the support of his body again as he lowered the bonds that surrounded her thighs and upper body. She leaned heavily on him when he vanished all traces of their bondage scene. Sensing her inability to walk, he swept her up bridal style and carried her to the cushy davenport on the opposite side of the room.

Lucius went through the motions of her aftercare, murmuring the normal, nonsensical praises he frequently did when they had such an incredible evening. All the while he was trying to figure out when to do it. Selfishly, he wanted to wait. He could tell her at Sunday dinner? Tell her that it would be their last week. That way he could have two more sessions with her before he would end their contract at their following Sunday dinner.

That's what he wanted, but he feared that if he put it off, even a measly week, he would never do it. He would want to keep her. He _did_ want to keep her. Always. He needed to rip off the Spell-O-Tape, so to speak.

"Are you all right, Master?" Hermione's voice was tentative and he met her pretty doe eyes, startled out of his thoughts.

"I am…I am fine, my dear," he lied. "I have some wonderful news for you."

For some reason dread filled Hermione with those words, and she was unsure why it was suddenly hard to look him in the eyes. She forced herself to meet his gaze unwaveringly. "What's that, Master?"

"You have finished your training, love," he told her with a gentle smile. A smile that only he knew was forced. "I am releasing you from your contract."


	31. Chapter Thirty One

**AN:**

**Well, here it is...the finale to book one! Hard to believe!** **  
**

**We will be posting a companion story called _Master Mine Interviews and Outtakes_. It will include cast interviews and one shots which will compliment all three books. Be on the lookout for it!**

**Book two will be forthcoming, but not right away. We are hoping to finish up _The Affair_ and _After Happily Ever After_. **

**Thank you to everyone who has supported and reviewed this story! We are blown away by the support we have rec'd!**

****Please share your thoughts!** **

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-One  
** **BETA: Raynephoenix2**

* * *

Hermione was frozen with the shock of the moment. The sentence that had just come out of Lucius' mouth was the last thing she had expected to hear. She had thought that when the time came to end their contract, they would have some sort of discussion about it. Not this one line and done moment. She felt like someone had opened the floor up beneath her. Like she had fallen off a broom.

"Oh." It was all she could say while her mind raced. Grief welled in her chest and anguish coursed through her heart and she wondered why on Earth she was feeling like this. Shouldn't she be elated? It was what she had been working towards! She was free to be with Snape as his submissive! All the rules they had in place that limited their intimacies were gone! They could be Master and submissive as well as boyfriend and girlfriend.

In the split second it took for all these thoughts to fly through her mind, she forced what she hoped was a happy smile to her face. For some reason, she didn't want Lucius to know what she was feeling. She wanted him to think she felt nothing but pride and happiness that he felt she was ready to be released.

She knew that he was proud of her, and she was so grateful for him and everything he had taught her…but…fuck. She hadn't expected this. Why did she feel as if she were being dumped? She knew their contract would end, granted she hadn't expected it quite yet, but she knew it would be over eventually.

She steeled herself before forcing her emotions down. She took a deep breath and was relieved when her voice sounded normal, and very calm. "That's…amazing, Master!" she exclaimed, launching herself at him and wrapping her arms around his neck – mostly to hide her emotions, partly because she felt it would be a normal reaction. She wanted to come off as if everything were fine. "I wasn't expecting this! I'm so excited!" She felt as if she were trying to assure herself.

Lucius' arms encircled her, and she was so caught up in her own turmoil that she missed how stiff the gesture was. "You've done beautifully, Doll," he assured her before pulling back and cupping her face. He dropped a kiss on her lips, not even giving her enough time to respond, and then moved his lips to her forehead while his fingers made quick work of the clasp of his collar at the nape of her neck. She had to bite down on her lower lip to stay the tears. Why did she feel so unprepared for this? She didn't want him to take the collar off, she needed to process what was happening longer. She needed more time. There was no more time.

Lucius avoided looking her in the face as he undid the clasp he had no desire to undo.

Ever.

The clasp he wished to leave sealed shut for the rest of his life.

Shakily he pocketed the necklace while continuing to look anywhere but at Hermione, therefore he never noticed the way she was pulling uneven breaths through her nose and cupping her throat as if she had lost something essential to her wellbeing. Each lost in their own grief, neither was aware of how the other was reacting.

Politely, Lucius handed Hermione her clothing before he used a spell to redress himself. He watched her covertly pulling on her garments for a moment while he smoothed his suit jacket. He needed to leave before he broke down and told her everything. Before he told her how he felt and asked her choose him over Snape. Before he fucked everything up for his best friend and the woman who had become everything to him.

He knew who her choice would be and he would not subject himself to the humiliation of making her tell him that she wanted Snape. He was positive that's what her decision would be. One more time he crossed the room and pressed a kiss to her forehead while cupping the nape of her neck.

"I have some paperwork to file before I go home tonight," he told her softly. "Please owl me soon, we should do lunch or dinner sometime in the next couple weeks."

"Of course I will, Lucius," she answered in a whisper. She reached out cautiously with her hand and brushed the five o'clock shadow of one cheek with her thumb before lifting her mouth to touch her lips chastely to his one last time. It took every ounce of will power for him not to deepen the kiss. "Thank you again, Lucius. For…everything."

He nodded curtly and stepped back. Hermione used the excuse of donning her dress to hide the confusion and conflict in her features. When she was free of the fabric, she watched his retreating form as he made his way to the door. He paused for just a moment before opening it and leaving without looking back to her.

The moment the door closed, her whole body began to tremble and tears welled in her eyes. Her breathing started to come in erratic gasps and her heart started pounding loudly in her ears. _What the bloody hell is the matter with you?_ she thought wildly as she jerked on the rest of her clothing.

She needed to get out. Get out of this room. Get out of the club. She needed to get back to her apartment to think, to process what the fuck just happened. Why in the world had Lucius not given her a warning? Why was their ending so sudden? Had she done something wrong? And why the fuck was she feeling this way?!

Panic and heartbreak rose in her chest and she scrambled to pick up her purse before fleeing out the door of the playroom. Entirely oblivious to her surroundings, she didn't even hear the door slam behind herself as she fled through the open demonstration area to the stairwell. She was up the stairs and walking through coat check before she knew it, not paying attention to a single person as she raced through the establishment.

Hermione reached the Apparition point before awareness caught up with her. She looked around in bewilderment for a moment before the sobs that had been threatening rose in her throat. The first one broke just as she spun on the spot and Disapparated.

* * *

"Hey Jonathan," Draco said with a smirk as he settled at the counter. Jonathan gave him a smile over his shoulder as he prepared a margarita for a couple of women at the other end of the bar.

"Be right with ya, mate," he promised the blond.

"No rush," Draco assured him, glancing around. "I'm actually gonna use the loo. See ya in a minute."

Draco made his way towards the men's room when the low timber of his father's voice made him pause. He spotted Lucius and Etan in a serious discussion at a table just before the hallway entrance to the back rooms.

"You ended her contract?" Etan's voice sounded surprised. "The last time we spoke you said she probably had a couple of weeks left? How was she?"

"What do you mean?" Lucius sounded confused.

"Did she handle ending your contract okay?"

"She was fine. Excited to be able to move on – she's wanted to be with Severus as his submissive from the beginning. I was her second choice, you know," Lucius was dismissive, covering his own hurt, but Draco could hear the underlying pain in his voice.

"How much time did you give her to prepare?" Etan asked.

"It was a spur of the moment decision," Lucius told his friend before taking a large pull off what looked like a double shot of whiskey. "I just knew in that moment we needed to be done."

"Wait a second. Luc, are you telling me you didn't give that girl any warning…?"

Draco immediately turned his attention back to the bar area, loo forgotten. He started scanning the faces of the ever-growing crowd of patrons for Hermione, which was why he never saw _her_ coming.

"Malfoy." It was a sultry, smoky voice that spoke, and Draco's eyes snapped to the face that had been haunting his naughtiest day dreams since the New Year.

"Millicent!" He couldn't help the surprised inflection in his voice. "Er, M?"

She gave a soft laugh. "I do prefer to go by M these days, if you don't mind," she answered his question.

"How are…how are you?" Bloody fuck, the woman had the worst timing. He moved his eyes away from her to scan the crowd again. Normally, looking for Hermione meant looking for that mop she called hair. Unfortunately, that didn't really work at the club as her hair was often pulled back in plaits or chignons or buns for safety purposes.

"I'm fine," M answered, a frown pulling at her full lips when she realized Draco's attention was not fully on her.

"That's…good." There she was! He watched her appear at the top of the basement stairwell. Her face was tilted towards the floor, so he couldn't see her expression but her body language was all wrong. He'd put money on her being upset.

"Draco, I was thinking I'd like to take you up on your offer of getting to know each other while leaving the past in the past and – "

Draco didn't even think before he cupped both of M's shoulders in his hands. His eyes bore intently into her as he told her, "Listen, Millie. You have no idea how long I've been waiting to have this conversation with you, but I can't right now. I think something just went down with my dad and Granger, and I need to make sure they're okay. Will you owl me? Please promise you'll owl me. I'll get back to you right away, I swear. We can go for coffee or lunch or something?"

M was completely taken back at the combined sincerity and urgency in his voice, she followed his gaze, which was no longer focused on her face, to see a quickly moving Hermione Granger all but fleeing the club, stalking through coat check without stopping.

"Sure, Draco." She surprised herself when her voice was soft and understanding. It wasn't like her to let her softer side show for any reason. "I understand. I'll owl you this week," she promised.

She was startled when Draco dropped an absentminded kiss to her forehead and thanked her before rushing towards coat check.

Draco was sure he had probably just blown his only chance with Millicent, but he had to push the disappointment down. His father and the woman he was coming to think of as his best friend had just done something so stupid. When in the world would they see what everyone around them (save for maybe Snape – and that was because he didn't _want_ to see it) already knew?

"Lola, did Granger leave her jacket here?" he asked the dark-haired young woman.

"Lemme check, just a sec Draco," Lola answered before disappearing into the coat room. She reappeared a few minutes later carrying Hermione's cloak. "I saw her leave, she was in a hurry. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, Lola, just fine. I saw her leave, too. Figured she left her coat. I'll get it to her," Draco assured her. "Thanks, love."

"Have a good night!"

Slowly, Draco made his was back into the bar area to seek out his father. He was relieved to see him still sitting with Etan at their small table, only now Rose was kneeling next to Etan with her head pillowed against his thigh.

"Hey, dad!" Draco said. Pretending he knew nothing, he kept his voice light and gave everyone at the small table a smirk when they all looked up at him. "I just saw Granger take off, she left her cloak." He held up the aforementioned garment. "I have plans in just a bit, but I know you're wrapping up soon. Mind dropping it off to her?"

"Sure, Draco," Lucius answered with what Draco could tell was a forced smile. "I'll head over there right after I finish up a couple things in the office. Will you excuse me, Etan?" Lucius looked at Etan and the younger man gave a slight nod.

"Really think about what I said, Luc," Etan encouraged as Lucius took the cloak from Draco.

"I will," Lucius dismissed Etan with a wave of a hand before turning his attention back to Draco. "You had somewhere to be?"

"Right, yeah," Draco answered. "I'll see you later, Dad. Have a good night."

Lucius arrived to his and Snape's office to find it empty. Snape must be patrolling the floor. To be honest, Lucius was relieved. He needed the privacy. In truth, he was feeling pretty messed up. Part of him didn't even want to take Hermione her cloak, but the mornings had been quite cool, and he had no idea what her plans were for the next day.

He sighed and laid her cloak over the back of his chair before flopping down. Distractedly, he signed a few documents that needed is approval before entering some figures in one of the financial ledgers. After he finished, he tucked a few files back into their respective place and stood.

Lucius pulled on his own cloak before draping Hermione's over his arm. Best to get it over with. He'd deliver the cloak, tell her goodnight, and then go home and wallow in his own self-pity with a nice glass of decades old Fire whiskey.

Tossing a handful of floo powder into the grate, he stepped in while calling out, "Granger's Flat!"

Lucius arrived at Hermione's home perplexed by the sight before him. Still in her dress and heels from earlier, Hermione was standing in the middle of her living room surrounded by a space which looked as though a couple bombarda charms had been cast. Books were in stacks of all heights scattered throughout the room. Her coffee table was in the corner, and bookshelves – which he thought had been built-ins – now stood on the opposite side of the room from where they had been recently. She was waving her wand and moving the sofa to face the window instead of the TV when he realized that she was so absorbed in her task that she had not even heard him arrive. It was completely unheard of for her to be so unaware.

"Hermione?" he called out when after a couple seconds more she still didn't notice him.

She started and turned surprised eyes his way.

"You left your cloak at the club," he offered as way of explanation for his surprise visit.

"Oh, hey," she responded, an obvious forced smile on her face. "Thanks."

Lucius stood frozen for a moment, not understanding what was going on in front of him. He stepped cautiously towards her. "What are you doing?" Her eye makeup was smudged and he wondered if she had been crying. He briefly scanned the room and noticed a box of tissues on the mantle along with several wadded-up tissues that had spilled to the floor.

"Just felt like redecorating," she replied simply as she looked around the room. Her forced smile did not reach her eyes.

Lucius could tell something was wrong. Something was _very_ wrong. Redecorating in the middle of the night? Still in the dress she was wearing from earlier?

"Love, are you ok?" he asked softly.

She tilted her head. "Sure, why wouldn't I be?" Despite a small smile, her eyes were dull, and the tone of her voice sounded off. Lucius knew her well enough to see right through the false words.

With a flick of his wand his outer robes were removed. Another flick and they, along with Hermione's, drifted across the room to hang on the coat rack; a coat rack which was oddly now in the hallway which led to her bedroom. He stepped close to her side and stroked her chin lightly, causing her to turn her face towards him.

After looking at him briefly, she turned her head away once again, as though hiding herself.

"Hermione, tell me," he demanded. His tone was more pleading than commanding, however.

She responded in a shaky voice, "I'm fine. I just, you know, I got home and realized my flat was all _wrong_. It needed to be fixed, it just _had_ to be set to rights. I couldn't let it – "

Wanting to see her eyes, he turned to her fully and grabbed her chin with his thumb and forefinger. This forced her to look up at him and he didn't let her turn away this time. She stopped speaking and gave him a slightly defiant stare.

He let out a tired sigh. "Please don't hide yourself from me, love. I can't bear it." After a couple seconds her expression softened, and her bottom lip began to quiver as her doe eyes welled with tears. Lucius felt like he couldn't breathe. He pulled her into his arms protectively as he whispered, "What is it, love?" He knew instantly, however. Etan had been right. Guilt punched him with such force he felt physically ill.

"I just feel…" But there were no more words as the tiny witch in his arms completely crumbled into him. She pressed her face into his chest as her fists grabbed his shirt with what felt like a death grip. Her shoulders heaved as she drew in large convulsive gasps of air between wails of pure anguish. It was a horrifying sound and he wondered how such a small witch could let out so much despair. He had heard her cry dozens of times. Usually they were tears from pain or frustration during an intense scene. Occasionally there had been tears of disappointment in herself, and he always hated those the most. But these tears, these were something else entirely, and he would do anything to make them stop. He had never in all his years heard such a sound. Narcissa had come close, upon the loss of their hours old daughter all those years ago. Lucius swallowed heavily and forced himself to push that memory aside, it was absolutely more than he could handle in this moment.

"Shh." He rubbed her back as her sobbing continued. "Breathe, love. Just breathe. I'm here. I've got you." She nodded her head against him as her arms wrapped around his torso and her hands gripped the back of his shirt tightly, as though holding on for dear life. Her body shuddered with three quick intakes of air before she blew them out shakily in one long, slow exhale. Lucius continued to whisper soothing words of support as he held her close and rubbed her back. After a minute or so, it seemed as though she were regaining control and Lucius internally let out a sigh of relief. "It's ok, Doll," he reassured softly as he kissed the top of her head. Only, instead of calming her, his words seemed to ignite another round of cries. A whimper escaped her and was followed by body wracking sobs.

Letting out an exhale of exasperation, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the chair that peculiarly was now facing (and almost inside) the kitchen. Tossing the errant thought aside, he internally berated himself for not having been more considerate with his handling of things at the club. He had been selfish and put his needs ahead of hers.

When he lowered himself onto the chair, she tucked her legs in so that she was a tight ball on his lap with her face pressed against his chest. Her hands were nestled into the crook of her chin and neck and after a minute her cries diminished to light sniffles. Lucius took a steadying breath as he held her close and rocked her, fighting his own despair. She needed his strength right now and it would not be fair to her for him to fall apart as well.

His hand slipped into his pocket where he pulled out one of his embroidered handkerchiefs. Looking down at her, he spoke tenderly. "I owe you an apology, little one." Her puffy, yet beautiful, fawn irises shot up to his, affording him the opportunity to dab her cheeks and under her swollen eyes with the cloth. "I should never have ended things so abruptly. I regret it was a last-minute decision and I acted hastily."

Hermione's eyes danced from his left to his right and then back again, as though searching for truth when she asked softly, "Why did you? Did I do something wrong?"

Lucius shook his head solemnly as his guilt continued to escalate. "No, my dear. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me."

"Oh," she sighed. "I wondered when you would grow bored of me."

Lucius tried to control his burst of outrage. "Hermione, I could _never_ grow bored of you. What a ridiculous thing to say!" He took a calming breath. "Tonight, was one of the best scenes I've ever experienced, and certainly better than _anything_ I've _ever_ done with another submissive."

"Then… why?" she crooned.

Lucius thought for a few seconds and spoke in a determined voice. "Because," he sighed, "because if I didn't do it in that moment, I feared I would never have the strength to let you go." They stared at each other for a spell and then he continued in a softer voice, "In truth, I've known you were ready for a couple weeks, but I just didn't want to acknowledge it. What I did tonight was unfair to you and I am...more sorry than I can put into words. I should have discussed it with you during dinner rather than ending things after such an intense session."

Her eyes searched his once again, confusion marring her expression. She clearly still didn't understand.

"I fear I have done the unthinkable and have grown attached to my submissive. A submissive who has learned everything that I originally set out to teach her… and then some. More importantly, a submissive who is in love with another man, another Dominant." He swallowed. "I promised you I would train you and I promised him I would let you go when that was done. It was time on all counts, love."

Hermione felt her eyes well once again as she looked up into what was obvious despair on Lucius' face. She could tell he was trying to conceal it. Where there was always strength, there was now a vulnerability that caused her heart to flutter. It was clear to her in that moment that Lucius loved her every bit as much as Draco had insisted. And, foolishly, she was only tonight realizing how much she truly loved him. There was no question she was in love with him.

"I'm…you know I love you, Lucius. I don't want this to end."

He kissed her forehead and tried to contain the pounding of his heart. He knew she believed her words to be true in this moment. He also knew she _did_ have love for him. However, it was easy to get carried away with professions of affection when one was experiencing the end of a relationship such as theirs. It was very much like breaking up with a significant other. Confusion, doubt, and fear of the loss could cause the mind to reach conclusions that were not always sound. He would not hold her to the words that he wished to be true. Even if they were true, he would not take her from Severus. Not before they had their chance.

"Hermione, I have no doubt that you have love for me. I love you _very_ much, as well. However, please indulge an older and more experienced wizard by listening to what he has to say." He watched her and after she gave him a small nod, he continued. "It is not unusual for a submissive, or a Dominant for that matter, to become confused in an arrangement such as ours. Emotions can run away when such a strong sexual chemistry exists. When you add a fondness like ours outside of the playroom as well…well, it makes things even more complicated. What you and I have is special, Doll. There is no doubt. I would like to remind you, however, about a certain dark-haired wizard whom you are _truly_ in love with. A man who is ready to finally step up to the pitch and be the Dominant you wanted him to be all along."

There was a brief pause as Hermione contemplated his words. "This is so confusing. I liked having you as my Master and Severus as my…lover." Her gaze moved to his neck as she absentmindedly fiddled with his amethyst collar pins. "I'm such a selfish person. I…know it's wrong and unfair," her caramel eyes lifted to his, "but I was rather fond of having you both."

Lucius chuckled lightly. "Ahh, but you see…you have had neither of us completely, just as neither of us have had you…completely. It has only been bits and parts." After a beat he continued, "Hermione, Severus was your choice from the beginning. And now you can both finally move forward without any restrictions or boundaries. You and Severus are ready for that final step. I feel certain that with free rein on your relationship, you will move on and make each other very happy. Don't you want that?"

"Well, yes," her hands reached up and cupped his cheeks, "but I don't want to lose _you_ , Lucius!" Her tone was fierce, and her eyes sparkled with her conviction.

"I'm not going anywhere, love. I will always be here for you, as your _friend_. It will take a period of adjustment…for both of us. As I said, I've grown quite attached to you and letting you go is very… difficult. Our time together has not always stayed within the boundaries it ought, and my attachment to you is deeper than that of just a Master for his submissive." Lucius swallowed, stopping himself just short of saying too much. "But in time, after we have both had the chance to adapt to the change in our relationship, I'd like to think we could resume our weekly dinners. I'd like to think we could continue to be the best of friends."

Hermione rested her head onto his chest and fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. After a minute she whispered, "I want that too, Lucius."

In a serious tone, he added, "Don't forget. You have your suite at Malfoy Manor. It's yours if you _ever_ have need. The wards will allow your entrance at any time."

"Thank you, Lucius," Hermione whispered with a soft smile.

After a few moments of quiet time, each lost in their own thoughts, Lucius peered around the room. Trying to lighten the mood, he asked. "Redecorating, huh?" Hermione sat up straighter and followed his gaze around the space. He added playfully, "Well, I'm certainly no expert, and while I do find your kitchen perfectly charming, I'm not quite sure this is the best place for your lounging chair."

Hermione looked around them, finally realizing she had moved the chair to a ridiculous spot. She laughed lightly and playfully slapped his chest. "Well, I wasn't exactly thinking clearly, now was I? I was trying to focus on something other than you!" Her eyes sparkled, and her smile was genuine, so Lucius knew she wasn't offended by his teasing.

"Hmm, is redecorating a common form of distraction?" he asked, his question more serious than not.

Hermione shrugged. "Redecorating, reorganizing the closets or my dresser… ya know, whatever it takes."

Lucius smirked and nodded. "So, in the future if I pop in for a visit and find the coat rack in the kitchen or the ice box in the living room, I'll know it's not that you have _deplorable_ decorating sense, but…"

"A broken heart," she interrupted with a sad smile.

Lucius felt his face fall as her sincerity almost knocked the wind out of him. "Oh, my dear." He pulled her close. "I am going to miss you, you know that, right?"

She started to turn and straddle him and suddenly froze as she realized it would be inappropriate. Then she didn't care. Sliding her dress up her thighs a bit, Hermione straddled him fully. His expression was a touch surprised as his hands moved away from her allowing her the freedom to resituate herself. He watched her cautiously when she moved in so that their faces were only inches apart. "Can…can I have a goodbye kiss, Lucius? Just one last time?"

He swallowed as his eyes darted reflexively from her eyes to her lips. "I'd like that," he spoke barely above a whisper.

Reaching up and cupping his cheeks one more time, Hermione leaned in and tenderly rested her soft, full lips against his. The kiss was light and innocent until her hands slid around his neck and her fingers laced into his hair. Her nails lightly scraped his scalp which elicited a soft moan from him. One of his hands cradled the back of her head while the other pressed her torso against him. Her hair had long ago started to fall from its braids and Lucius made quick work of releasing it completely as their lips moved against each other. His tongue slid along her lower lip requesting entry, and immediately their mouths were ravenous for each other. The kiss deepened, and their tongues explored as though trying to memorize every angle and crevice.

After about a full minute of the intense snogging, Lucius pulled back. Their eyes met with understanding. They simply stared at each other before Hermione let out a sigh and rested her face into the crook of his neck. After a minute, he tilted up her chin to place a soft kiss on her nose. "I should go. It's late."

Hermione swallowed heavily and then nodded as she slid back off his lap. His robes flew to him with a flick of his wand and he walked towards the floo before stopping to face her one last time. There were no more words to say. He took her hand and bent forward to place a soft kiss on the back of it. He wanted to thank her for her submission, and thank her for loving him, but he knew he needed to leave.

"Goodnight, love," he whispered.

"Goodnight, Lucius," she said as she chewed her bottom lip.

He smiled a sweet, crooked smile as he stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. "I never did break you of that habit."

A toss of floo powder and a whispered destination left Hermione staring into the empty fireplace.

* * *

Severus rubbed his eyes as he looked at the clock. How did it get so late? Unable to concentrate any longer he slid his quill into its cup and let out a yawn. Turning to the security screens he wasn't surprised to find the club still crowded. One in the morning was still a very active hour for a Friday night. When he heard the floo activate, he turned to see his best friend arrive looking exhausted. "Lucius," Severus offered in greeting.

"Severus," Lucius simply said in return as he walked to his desk and seemed to collapse into it.

Being it was Friday, and therefore a training night with his witch, Severus couldn't resist a little jibe at his friend. "Lucius, I think you are getting too old for the young ones. Struggling to keep up?"

Expecting his friend to come back with a ready quip, Severus was shocked when instead Lucius simply leaned forward onto his elbows and ran his hands through his hair. It was when Lucius finally turned and looked him in the eye that Severus knew it was more than simple exhaustion. After a moment, Severus tilted his head and asked gently, "Luc?"

Lucius let out a deep breath and said simply, "I ended our contract tonight."

Severus' jaw fell as he leaned back in his chair, still watching his friend. Years of being very close left the two wizards practically able to read each other's minds. The implications for each wizard did not need verbalization to be understood. After a moment, Severus walked across the office and pulled a bottle of Old Ogden's out of the cabinet. Grabbing two glasses, he poured them each a hefty serving and approached his friend.

Lucius looked from the glass to Severus' face as he took the offering. Each wizard waited until Severus sat back down before tapping their drinks to each other and taking a swallow.

"How did she take it?" Severus asked, watching Lucius closely. The closing of Lucius' eyes followed by a heavy sigh told Severus what he needed to know. He was not blind after all. He knew that not only did Lucius have stronger feelings than he would admit, but that Hermione had feelings for Lucius she was probably only now realizing. The question was, how deep? Severus could not help the small swell of insecurity that raised within his chest.

Lucius took another large swallow and answered, "She was upset, but it was because I caught her off guard. She wasn't expecting it and of course, in typical Hermione fashion, her immediate thought was that she had done something wrong. Something to displease me." He paused and then continued. "Of course, she didn't voice any of that here at the club. Apparently, she left in such a hurry, she forgot her cloak. It wasn't until I returned it to her flat that I found her distraught."

Severus took a swallow and forced himself not to say something hurtful. "And, why wasn't she expecting it? Surely, you gave her warning?" Severus knew Lucius hadn't, Hermione would have told him.

Lucius looked up at Severus. "No, I…didn't give her proper warning. In truth, I wasn't planning on ending it tonight. It wasn't until we were in the middle of our scene that I realized she was ready."

Severus didn't say anything. Instead he waited for Lucius to keep talking as he knew he would.

"When I made the decision, I upped the ante a bit. Realizing it would be our last session, I wanted it to be special." Lucius swallowed the last of his drink and stood. After stepping to the cabinet, he grabbed the bottle and walked back. Refilling each of their drinks, he set the bottle on his desk.

Severus watched Lucius pour the liquid courage as his own thoughts raced. He wanted to go to his witch. He wanted to make sure she was okay and, more importantly, prove to her she would be fine without her blond Master. To remind her why she didn't need Lucius. Right now, though, his friend did need him. Not to mention that, frankly, Severus needed to know more. He would go to her soon.

When Lucius wasn't forthcoming, Severus prodded him. "This still doesn't explain why you ended things on the fly."

Lucius took a swallow and shrugged. "She's a great submissive. I'll admit I didn't want to let her go. I needed to do it then or I might have dragged it out a bit longer for another round or two." Steel orbs met black. "It wasn't fair to hold you back any longer." Lucius' tone had become a bit dismissive and Severus knew the wizard was downplaying his feelings. It was alright, it was probably best he kept those feelings to himself. Things were awkward enough without them being spoken aloud. It wasn't like they weren't both fully aware of how hard this actually was for Lucius.

Letting out a deep breath, Severus polished off his drink. There was a lot more he would have said if the witch had been any other than Hermione. He would have convinced his friend to admit his feelings and go back to the woman. If that hadn't worked, he would have convinced him that there were a lot of submissives out there who were just waiting for the chance to scene with him. This witch couldn't be _that_ special. A couple rounds with another beauty and he would be over her.

These were the words Lucius needed to hear, but Severus couldn't be the one to say them. How could he? It was Hermione – and both men knew how remarkable she was. Not to mention they'd had an agreement.

So instead, neither wizard said anything. Until after a moment Severus felt he had to. "Lucius, I'm sorry. If it were any witch other than Hermione…"

Lucius stood abruptly. "Yeah, you know what? I think I'm just tired. It's been a long week. I need to get home."

Severus played along. "I'm beat as well. I should probably go check on her. Make sure she's okay."

Lucius paused after he slipped on his cloak. "Sev, I don't think that's such a good idea. She was exhausted when I left and she's probably asleep. Maybe bring her breakfast in the morning?"

Severus didn't have a chance to respond before there was a soft tap on the office door. Irritated with the interruption, he moved and threw the door open abruptly. He let out a breath at the sight before him and gestured for his visitor to enter.

"I'll leave you two to talk, "Lucius said as he looked at the woman and then back to Severus. He turned to the floo and said, "Malfoy Manor" as he tossed the powder and promptly disappeared in a swirl.

He landed in his study's fireplace as gracefully as he always did and brushed off a few traces of soot before shrugging out of his cloak. When he went to hang the garment on the rack, he was surprised to see his hands trembling. The surprise quickly turned to despair when he realized just how tightly he had been keeping the cap on his emotions. His throat tightened painfully, and he turned back to the fireplace. Sending an _Incendio_ into the grate, Lucius relished in the warmth as the flames roared to life. He closed his eyes against the sting of heat that radiated from the hearth and was startled when a single tear trickled down one cheek.

He let out a shuddering breath before raising one hand to gently smooth the show of weakness from his face. He heard footsteps, so when the warm, gentle hand of his son rested on one shoulder it didn't startle him. He took another fortifying breath and slowly turned to meet Draco's eyes.

Draco met Lucius' sad gaze with a half-hearted smirk. "I knew you were in love her with her, you idiot." The words were said with no malice and Lucius let out a mirthless laugh before swiping one hand down his face.

"It's gonna be alright, Dad," Draco assured the elder Malfoy. "We'll get you through this." He gestured to the matching wing back chairs a few feet from the mantle. There were two glasses of amber liquid already poured and a couple of cigars just waiting to be clipped and indulged in.

Lucius looked at the simple set up and realized that Draco had known exactly what had happened at the club tonight and that his son had made sure he went to see Hermione. Draco had realized they needed more closure than Lucius had allowed them in their little, private room in the basement of _The Dungeon_.

And now he was here, ready to stand by him while he drowned out his heart ache with a couple of bad vices. He wasn't sure what he had done in life to deserve a son like Draco.

* * *

Despite his exhaustion and desire to get to Hermione, (he would not be waiting until the morning to go see her no matter what Lucius thought was best, Severus knew she needed him and he would go to her), Severus could not turn away the witch in front of him. He tried not to let his frustration and impatience show as he closed the door and gestured to the chair Lucius had just vacated.

The red-head he'd had no interaction with since January slowly sat without looking up at him. It wasn't until Severus saw how her hands were trembling that he grew concerned. His eyes trailed up her form and it dawned on him she was wearing regular street clothes and not her usual club attire. Upon further scrutiny, the witch looked pale and perhaps a bit thin. It only heightened his worry when Severus realized he could count on one hand how many times she had come to his office unexpectedly. She knew he didn't like interruptions. This was beyond unusual.

He sat in his chair and watched her, giving her a chance to speak.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm sorry to stop by so late. I just…"

Severus waited a moment with baited breath, but when she didn't continue, he began to become impatient. However, it was as much out of concern as anything else. "Britt, what's wrong?"

"I… didn't know who to go to. I'm…well you know how my father is. And Lanni…she moved to Dublin and I…" Her green eyes suddenly looked up to meet his and Severus was stunned to find them welling with tears. In all the years he had known her, she had never cried outside of a scene except for once. It had been before the second war, when her mother died.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. "I'm pregnant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay - we know. "Fucking cliff-hanger."
> 
> Gentle reminder - this is a DRAMA. :oD That being said … there's suppose to be DRAMA. It's the end of the first part of the story, no it's not gonna be wrapped up in a pretty bow. We are sorry for all those claiming anxiety and freaking out. Rest assured the next book will pick up right where this scene left off. You'll get answers quickly enough.
> 
> Next. "When does the next book come out?!" Looking at January. We know - that's forever away. Still looking like January. We're going to finish After Happily Ever After and A World Not Fit to Live In first. If we're STILL heavily working on WNF come January - MAYBE we'll post the first chapter of the next book as a gift. MAYBE. No Promises. 
> 
> Last. Take a second to follow our "Outtakes & Extras" story. This is a collection of skits and one shots that relate us to our characters. They're fun, meant to be funny and silly, and give you updates on how life is going. The top of each "chapter" tells you where they fall in our other stories. We talk about all our stories in these snippits, but mostly they're related to MM. :o) Lots of love! ~Lissa & Snow


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